Sailor Moon: Millennials
by Darth Artemis
Summary: A reposting of a long-lost classic of Sailor Moon fanfiction. Originally written by The High Judge.
1. Chapter 1

*REPOSTER'S NOTE*

Right, let's get the important stuff out of the way first: I DID NOT WRITE THIS FANFIC. _Sailor Moon: Millennials_ was originally written by The High Judge, an author who I hold in very high esteem, and who mysteriously vanished from the online community several years ago. When the webpage that originally hosted _Millennials_ went down, it effectively vanished from the internet because the Judge never hosted it on other sites like FF or Mediaminer. In the interest of preserving this old classic and getting it some much-needed exposure, I've decided to repost it here with as much of the original formatting intact as I can manage, though some things will probably have been lost either by virtue of my text-only source files or the formatting limitations imposed by the local formatting system. I do not have the author's permission to do this, but if the Judge miraculously reappears and tells me to stop posting his work, I will gladly remove everything of his that I've posted.

Oh, and Sailor Moon and all related characters are the property of Naoko Takeuchi and whoever currently owns the rights to the anime. Don't bother suing, I haven't got a dollar to my name.

With that said, enjoy!

***MILLENNIALS***

Senshi Pluto stepped forward from the swirling mists, her face cool and dispassionate. The looming mass of the Time Gate stood solidly atop the nothingness behind her, as it always had, did, and would do, while the featureless mists drifted—as they always had, did, and would do—about the Gate and its keeper, the only solid features in this grey eternity—as they almost always had been, were, and would continue to be.

Almost always.

But not quite.

"I call the Court," Pluto said in a loud, clear voice, striking the butt of her staff three times against the featurelessness beneath her. There was nothing there for her to stand on, let alone to strike, and yet, at the same time, _everything_ was there. Three solid strikes sent their echoes rolling into the mists, and as the greyness shifted, it changed. Where there had been nothing, there was now something. More precisely, it was the beginning of something.

"I call Order," Pluto said, and a tall podium appeared to her left. Five feet high, five feet wide, seemingly carved from featureless grey stone, the podium was a sudden burst of reality in this otherwise unreal place. It was occupied by a single figure in grey, hooded robes. Every line of those robes was crisp and clearly visible, every patch of light and shadow clearly marked, and a blank face, carved of the same grey stone as the podium, looked out from the hood. There were no features in that face except two iron-grey eyes: unblinking, stern, and radiating authority. The face turned to nod at Pluto, its gaze neither friendly nor hostile.

"I call Chaos," Pluto said, and a second podium appeared next to the first. This stand, at once sharing and defying the dimensions of its neighbor, seemed to drink in the shifting mists all around, but also to be the source of those same whips of fog. It was every color at once, and none at all. It was square, sphere, pyramid, and prism, it was there and it was not there. The occupant was equally strange. First it was a shapeless mass of shadows, then a precise imitation of the rigid figure to its right. Then the grey robes exploded in a riot of color, and in the space of a heartbeat, the face shifted through a profile of a thousand separate visages. Male, female, neuter, human, animal, alien. Three eyes that danced with mad glee became fifty as the head became a hand and nodded—or waved—at Pluto, continuing the unpredictable metamorphosis.

"I call Evil," Pluto said next, and a night-black podium took its place beyond the one occupied—or not—by Chaos. Here, podium and occupant seemed to be one, a single jagged shadow which drank in the mists and returned nothing, a hole in the unreality of eternity. Even at this distance, Pluto could feel waves of cold terror, malice, and a hundred other dark emotions, all of them pulling at her physically and mentally. Only long experience allowed Pluto to ignore the whispers dancing through her mind, but even she felt a shiver of—what? Pain? Pleasure? Fear? Desire?—as the two blood-red eyes of that shadow locked with her own. She shook off the momentary sensation and went on.

"I call Good," Pluto said, causing a fourth podium to take form. Next to the shadowy presence of Evil, the white marble was a sun against midnight, the quiet but unyielding candle amidst shadows. Looking up from the comforting glow of the stand, knowing that the gentle gaze of Good would reassure her after her momentary brush with the eyes of Evil, Pluto gasped in astonishment when she realized that the podium was unoccupied. For a moment, her self-control evaporated. "What..." she blurted.

"Continue," the flat, emotionless voice of Order demanded.

"COntinUe," the myriad, shifting voices of Chaos suggested. "Or NOt."

-Continue- the eerie, silken voice of Evil whispered.

"I call..." Pluto began unsteadily, then shook her head and tried to get a firm grip on her will. "I call Life," she said, her voice clear and calm once more. The fifth podium was rich brown wood, not carved so much as grown into the desired shape, the base seeming to take root in the blankness beneath as would a tree. Delicate vines of ivy wrapped about the pedestal, budding and blossoming in the space of a few moments until a tiny garden had taken shape along the surface of the box. The figure within wore a robe fashioned from the flowing lengths of its own hair, radiant green tresses inset with tiny flowers. The face and figure were more female than anything else, though Pluto had to wonder if she was seeing what she wanted to see rather than the actual form—assuming Life or any of the others even had a true form. Golden eyes shone brightly as Life nodded to Pluto.

"Continue," Life said in a melody of animal voices. As always, Pluto thought she heard a lion's growl of faint disapproval amidst the birdsong and other calls; Life had never been completely happy about her existence here, cut off from the flow of time and the path of life that should have been hers. As always, there was the faintest suggestion that Pluto could go back and pick up her life once more, to find the home, love, and family denied her by her duty. As always, Pluto allowed herself the briefest moment of regretful speculation before going on.

"I call Death," Pluto said, and her fingers tightened uneasily around her staff as the last and most distant of the six seats warped into existence. The podium was fashioned from hundreds of unidentifiable bones, bones which might have come from kings or commoners, man or beast, and which had all been brought low by the force they now supported. Atop the grim jigsaw sat a wiry figure in tattered robes of dull brown. A pair of bony hands rested folded atop the podium, but neither face nor eyes could be seen beneath the frayed rim of the hood. That emptiness turned to add its own silent greeting, and Pluto kept her eyes lowered until the unsettling presence had moved on. There was no malice in the gaze of Death, only the single grim truth it offered to everyone—and, in a strange way, more compassion than either Good or Life could offer—but not even the Guardian of Time could meet that immaterial gaze for long.

Not waiting for words—for Death seldom spoke—Pluto proceeded. "I call the Past, the Present, the Future." A larger podium appeared to Pluto's right, the same length as the six it sat across from. This box appeared to be formed from the flowing mists, and within sat three figures wearing robes of the same immaterial material. Again, the Guardian of Time suspected that her mortal mind was trying to make sense of the true nature of these forces by giving them forms she could comprehend, for each aspect of Time wore a face strikingly similar to her own.

"Continue," Past said. Its face was that of a young Pluto, but it spoke with the voice of an old woman who remembers days gone by.

"Continue," Present said. Its face and voice were eerily identical to Pluto's.

"Continue," Future giggled. Its face was old, Pluto as she might be should she leave this timeless eternity and age half a century, but it spoke in the voice of a child with her entire life yet to come.

"I call Balance," Pluto said. Opposite from her, another podium appeared. Ten feet to a side and just as tall, it was strangely neutral in shape and color, having some of the properties of each of the six gathered forces. The figure seated here wore judicial robes somewhat similar to those of Order, except that they flowed and moved with Chaotic patterns. Its face was half Life and half Death, half the creeping shadow of Evil and half the absent face of Good. It, too, nodded to Pluto.

"Continue," Balance said in a surprisingly normal voice. "All will be explained. In time," it added, lips quirked in a slightly Chaotic grin.

"I call the Court," Pluto repeated, once again striking her staff against the mists.

"The Court is called," Order said firmly.

"tHE HoRSEraDIsh couRt Is CAllEd stEaMLiner," Chaos giggled.

-The Court is called- Evil whispered. Pluto shivered at the absence between Evil and Life, at the words left unsaid. What was going on?

"The Court is called," Life sang. Beside Life, Death remained silent, the slow nod of its unseen head all the reply necessary.

"The Court is called," the three voices of Time said in unison.

"The Court is called," Balance said, completing the ritual. "Before we proceed, I believe some answers are necessary," it said, looking apologetically at Pluto. "Are there any objections?"

"It is a disruption of the proceedings," Order said disapprovingly. "But the absence of Good is also a disruption, which must be addressed. I therefore have no objection."

"a CHAngE MigHT be nIce," Chaos agreed. "THen AGaiN, it miGHT nOt."

"Do you object or not?" Balance said flatly. Chaos considered it for all of two seconds, probably a record for its ever-shifting awareness.

"mOnKEY NoT at THis apRICot TIMe. We MAY snOWflAkE laTEr."

-I object- Evil said. Pluto had rather suspected it would; with Good absent, Evil was unbalanced, a situation it would have found ideal. Anything which might threaten its current advantage would be opposed.

"Your objection is noted," Balance said in a dry voice.

"I do not object," Life said.

Death again remained silent.

"We do not object," Present said after a moment of discussion.

"So be it," Balance said. "Four unopposed, one objection, one absent, and one abstention. The motion is carried." Balance sighed and thought for a moment. "Some time ago, there was an imbalance on the mortal plane. Though it was eventually corrected, the nature of the imbalance was sufficient to threaten a massive disruption of the forces even after it had been repaired."

"I don't understand."

"we DO Red JELly," Chaos hissed. "SoMEtimeS. WE weRE rATher intimAtelY InVOlveD wIth the ALaRM clOCk PRoblem, afTer aLL." Pluto considered its statement, and one word came to mind.

"Galaxia."

"Correct," Balance said. "From your own experience, you know that Senshi Galaxia was able to entrap a sizable portion of Chaos-force for an extended period of time. Her actions destabilized the balance between Chaos and Order, and in so doing, affected the rest of the Court as well."

"WE diD NoT paRTIculArlY enjoy tHE exPeriEnce," Chaos said, for once not even trying to contradict itself.

"Not many did," Balance said, sighing. "Unpleasant at it was at the time, Galaxia's timing of the affair is the real problem."

"Excuse me?" Pluto asked.

"We meet each century to review the conflicts of the Past, to assess the state of the Present, and to plan the challenges of the Future," Order said. "So it has been, so it is now, and so it will be."

"Galaxia's imprisonment of Chaos-force altered the balance near the end of this century," Balance explained. "Ordinarily, we would solve the issue by assigning the next century primarily to Chaos, to counter its recent weakness. Unfortunately, this is not merely the end of a century, but of a millennium as well."

"I still don't understand," Pluto said.

"Don't you? You exist outside of Time in this place, Pluto, but you were born over two thousand years ago. From here," Balance went on, indicating the foggy nether-realm with a wave of its hand,"you have witnessed the past and looked into the future. Consider each age you have watched and tell me this; what do you see?"

Pluto considered the question carefully. Three thousand years and more coiled around in her mind, memories of things long past, memories of things yet to be. As she looked through the centuries, something that might have been the answer took shape.

"Currents," she said finally. "The flow of events in each century follow a general path, whether for Order or Chaos, Good or Evil, Life or Death. The actions of humanity in response to those currents can change the course of events, but the flow remains. And each century is but a branch from the flow of its millennium."

"A flow which we determine," Balance finished for her,"based on that which was, that which is, and that which is yet to be. Now do you see the problem?"

"Yes," Pluto said. She briefly entertained the thought of stepping back into the time stream and knocking Galaxia one across the back of the head for what her idiocy had caused. "Is this why Good is absent?"

"Partially, but not entirely. Although the imbalance caused by the imprisonment of Chaos was an undeniable act of Evil, Evil itself has suffered a number of defeats in the last few years. By themselves, these losses were evenly matched by Evil's prior victories, but the restoration of Chaos—being an act of Good—tipped the balance again. Countering it would have required a ruling in Evil's favor, in addition to a ruling for Chaos in the next millennium."

"Ten centuries allotted to Chaos and Evil is not a pleasant thought," Life said grimly. "Good volunteered its absence in these proceedings to prevent such a ruling; by weakening its own presence and that of Order, Good has negated most of the recent imbalances against Evil and Chaos."

-But not all-

"No, not all," Balance admitted, sparing a hard glance at the red-eyed void of Evil. "And you would do well not to push the issue any further. I am still not entirely convinced that Galaxia's plan was of her own devising."

-Irrelevant. I whisper to all in the night, in the silence of their souls. I cannot force them to act in my interests; they must choose to do so- The angry sound of a growling wolf issued from Life as Evil finished its hissing recital.

"Enough," Balance said grimly, looking back to Pluto. "Because the imbalances were created by the actions of mortals, they must be redressed in the mortal world. Only then will we be able to properly conduct our deliberations. Do you understand?"

"I do," Pluto replied, echoing Balance's earlier sighs with one of her own. "What happens now?"

"The Court must proceed," Order stated.

"eVentS MiGhT be reVIEwed, PLanneD. KIck DirT voDkA."

-New tests have been devised and set in motion- Evil seemed to savor its words.

"There is much to be done," Life hummed.

Death remained silent.

"The Past will be reviewed," the first of the three not-Plutos said, vanishing in a ripple of mist.

"The Present will be studied," the second not-Pluto replied, phasing out.

"The Future will be planned," the last finished. As Future faded, so too did the rest of the Court, each of them vanishing in a different manner. Order's material form, deprived of the iron will of its guiding awareness, dissolved back into the mists, while next to it, Chaos chose to leave in a flash and bang of—falling sweatsocks? Evil's shadow slid into itself and disappeared, while the empty podium of Good seemed to gutter and fade like a blown-out candle. Life's avatar went through a reversal of the growth that had created it in the first place, podium and occupant alike shrinking into youth before sinking into the mists and fading entirely. Death was simply there one second and gone the next, leaving Pluto alone with Balance.

"It's about time," a new voice said impatiently. Pluto turned to see a most unwelcome and disturbing sight. From the neck down, the new arrival was ordinary enough: a fairly normal body wearing a slightly less-ornate version of the robes the vanished incarnations of the forces had, this one a dull shade of red, trimmed with black. Above the neck, however, the figure took an abrupt turn from normal to unnatural. One side of its face, the right, was that of a handsome man in his early twenties, with dark blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a flashing smile. On the left side, the face was suddenly female. No makeup, no clear line between halves, just a blurred middle ground between two undeniably different sides.

"Janus," Pluto said flatly.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" The figure's voice was softer now, its lips pouting and its eyes wide with mock hurt. "Alive, unharmed, and free from an endless existence of nothing? Oh, wait," it went on, voice deepening and features changing,"that's right. You were the one who put me there in the first place."

"How did you get free?" At this, Janus laughed and walked past Pluto.

"My dear daughter of time, of all people, YOU should know that there is no such thing as 'forever.' To all things, there is a beginning and an end, and an existence therein." Now standing between Pluto and Balance, Janus turned, the male eye gleaming darkly. "This is my time, now, despite your interfering efforts to the contrary. My freedom was inevitable, just as I told you. Do you remember? Do you remember what else I said?"

"I do," Pluto admitted, taking a tighter hold on her weapon. "And I can see that an eternity in infinity hasn't done anything to improve you." She looked past the divided features to Balance. "What is the meaning of this? Why has _that_ been set loose again?"

"The Balance must be preserved," Balance said simply. "Regardless of the cost. The tests have been revised and approved. The trials will commence," it said, lifting a gavel. Balance, Pluto noticed with a chill, was looking at her apologetically, even sadly. Janus, on the other hand, seemed triumphant.

"What tests?" Pluto asked, as the gavel came down. "What trials?"

"...NOW," Balance said in a thunderous voice. As the echo of the gavel striking home reached her, Pluto felt a very strange sensation...

***MILLENNIALS***

The last night of 1999 was winding to a close. All across the world, people went home early to prepare for New Year's Eve parties—or the end of the world, depending on which side of the millennium question they happened to follow. In Tokyo, the five Senshi had watched the buildup to the new millennium with a mix of excitement and exasperation. They knew from their own experiences that, although the world had been in real danger of annihilation in recent years, it was going to be around for quite a while yet, due in no small part to their efforts. It was nice to know that all their hard work had paid off, and that people would have real reason to celebrate—even if nobody else was actually aware of what those reasons were.

But still, it would have been nice if somebody had thought to dedicate even _one_ of these parties to _them._ As Ami had pointed out, though, they really still had another year before the millennium was truly over. Somebody might wise up over the next twelve months—and in the meantime, they could kick back and enjoy the well-nigh global celebration.

"After all," Ami said,"I think we've earned a little peace, don't you?" Her friends had to agree with that. Epic battles between good and evil aside, the last few years had been busy for all them. Not that saving the world wasn't an important and stress-filled part of life, but just growing up was every bit as important—if in a more personal way—and it could be every bit as insane. The last half of this year, in particular, had been crazier than usual.

But that, as Rei said, was all Usagi's fault.

Mamoru had returned to the States at the end of summer to continue his studies, and the Senshi had watched as, without him, Usagi had wandered through a fog of worry, loneliness, suspicion, and simply moping around. Given the track record of their seemingly disaster-plagued relationship and the number of times Mamoru had wound up amnesiac, distant, or just plain dead, worrying was the most normal thing in the world for Usagi to do. Usually, she would have morbidly entertained herself with fits of crying and a splurge of chocolate and ice cream, after which she would remind herself about ten thousand times that this whole relationship was preordained, and then get better. It usually took about a week or two for the whole thing to work its way through her system, three at the outside, so the girls had sat back and waited. Nearly a month after Mamoru's departure, Usagi was still uncharacteristically moody. Just as her friends were starting to really worry, she perked up quite literally overnight and was suddenly back to normal. _Too_ normal, in fact. For almost two weeks, the Senshi had the distinct impression that their leader was laughing at them about something, a private joke that they had all somehow missed.

Even with all these early warning signals, the announcement in early October that Usagi was pregnant had been seriously unanticipated.

Without actually explaining why, Usagi had wheedled her father into letting her host a weekend dinner party with a semi-formal dress code and a fairly extensive guest list. The four Senshi had been invited, naturally, as had Naru, her mother, and Umino, but Usagi had also extended invitations to Minako's parents, Ami's mother and—despite some protests from Ami—Urawa, Rei's grandfather and Yuuichirou, Motoki and Reika, and even Haruna. When pressed about the matter, Usagi had replied that it had just occurred to her that half of the important people in her life had never met the other half—or, if they had, _she_ hadn't met the important people in _their_ lives—and she felt it was time to change that. With his wife in support of the idea, Kenji had little choice but to agree.

The party had started with the simultaneous arrival of the Aino family, Umino, and the Osakas. When Minako, glittering in a golden gown, the freshly- combed Artemis in one arm, had introduced her parents in a too-polite tone of voice, Usagi remembered that Minako and her mother did not get along very well, and usually went to considerable lengths to avoid one another. Fortunately, the number of guests proved enough to keep them at a safe distance for much of the evening.

Haruna had shown up next, and then the Mizunos, mother and daughter alike wearing nearly identical dresses in pale blue. Ryo had trailed a short distance behind, slipping quietly in the door and confessing to Usagi that meeting Ami's mother was not high on his to-do list. Ami had apparently agreed with him about that, as the two spoke to one other only slightly more than Minako and her mother. One does not get to be a doctor by being stupid, however; Usagi noticed at one point that Ryo, looking rather like a man before a firing squad, had been cornered by Mizuno-san, whose face said she was considering him with the same clinical attitude as she might consider the illness of a patient. Afterwards, though, Usagi had seen Ryo and Ami talking together quietly, neither of them noticing Mrs. Mizuno as she watched them from across the room with a faintly satisfied smile. Mizuno-san noticed Usagi noticing, winked, and raised her glass in a one-sided toast.

Rei, resplendent in a fiery red dress, was the next to arrive, her grandfather—as ever, wearing that same, slightly battered old robe—and Yuuichirou in tow. She had bullied her grandfather into a semblance of good behavior with the evening's promise of food, but still spent a great deal of time with one or both eyes on the old man. Those eyes spent most of the rest of the evening keeping a close watch over Yuuichirou, who, in a decent suit and with his hair combed out of his eyes for the first time Usagi could remember, was getting along with Haruna a little too well for Rei's taste.

Motoki and Reika arrived not long after that, but it was nearly another half an hour before Makoto finally showed up. When Usagi answered the door, she was not surprised to see her friend in a close-fitting gown of deep green, but neither had she expected the look of hurt. The fact that Makoto arrived by herself drove the point home and explained her lonely expression better than words. Minako might dislike her mother, Ami's mother might never be home, and Rei's grandfather might embarrass her, but at least they were there. Makoto was not so lucky, and being around the families of her friends would only remind her of her own loss.

Usagi stepped outside and embraced Makoto, apologizing for her mistake. Then, after looking around to make sure no one was listening, she whispered a quick explanation. After a moment of surprise, Makoto's face had gone from pained to overjoyed in a flash, and her enthusiastic return hug had been only a little short of bone-crushing. Once she had calmed down and wiped her tears away, Makoto's face settled into her normal cheerful smile so as not to spoil the surprise for the others. The smile grew a little less forced when she saw Motoki and Reika.

Aside from her slip-ups with Minako and Makoto, Usagi had been the perfect hostess that evening. Wearing a modest white gown that absolutely screamed 'Moon Princess knock-off' to the Senshi, she was charming and witty, on-hand to introduce everyone, make sure there were enough seats, keep the various conversations going smoothly, and generally announce to the world that she had an ulterior motive. Nobody could figure out exactly what it might be; Makoto kept quiet on the matter, and Ryo, despite several pointed inquiries from Ami and the others, denied any prescient knowledge of the matter. He was lying, of course, but after weighing what the three Senshi _might_ do to him to get some answers against what he knew Usagi _would_ do if he spoiled the surprise, Ryo chose the path of least pain.

Usagi had waited until after dinner to drop the bomb on everyone, and the results were suitably explosive. Makoto and Ryo, having been forewarned, took the opportunity to enjoy the varied expressions of surprise, but they were both somewhat curious to note that Ikuko was as serene as her daughter. Usagi later admitted that her mother had been the first to know, almost two weeks in advance of everyone else, and that the party had actually been her idea.

Everyone other than Ikuko, Makoto, and Ryo had been stunned into several moments of utter silence, while Usagi endured the combined stares with no outer reaction beyond a demure smile. Haruna, Naru, and Umino, who had known Usagi the longest out of any of the guests, seemed the most surprised. Then Rei, Minako, and Ami had let out a unified"WHAT?", which had opened the gate for everyone else to start talking.

Everyone—with two exceptions. Usagi's father and Luna had both sort of keeled over sideways at the news. It had taken three attempts to get Kenji back on his feet, and the first two tries had been neatly foiled as soon as he heard the news again. Rei's grandfather had finally solved the problem by producing a small bottle from somewhere in his robes and pouring some of the contents into Kenji. Whatever the stuff had been, it had done the trick.

After that, the rest of the evening had been swallowed up in congratulations, questions, answers—though not as many as some people would have liked, and far too many for others' peace of mind—and, for the Senshi, who alone among the others really knew what—or more specifically, _who_—this announcement meant, a lot of ridiculously happy hugs. Kenji spent most of his time alternating between standing around in a daze and maniacally giggling to himself as he planned what he was going to do when he got his hands on Mamoru.

Ikuko spoke with Rei's grandfather at that point, and by the time the two men had finished the contents of the little brown bottle, Kenji was much more mellow. He was profoundly hungover when he woke up in the morning—well, early afternoon, to be entirely precise—and Ikuko used that advantage and every other weapon in her arsenal to extract a promise of some sort from him. When Usagi got home that afternoon, her mother had informed her that Kenji had sworn off any sort of vengeance against her fiancee. Usagi was very happy to hear that, although the fact that her _mother_ had made no such promise still bothered her.

Usagi's afternoon return had followed a meeting of all five Senshi and their two guardians at Hikawa. They already had the answers to the more mundane questions; now they needed answers to some slightly more unusual ones.

First and foremost was whether or not Usagi could transform into Sailor Moon if she were needed, and, if she could, what effect it might have on the unborn ChibiUsa. Luna and Artemis both admitted to uncertainty on that part. They were both reasonably sure that the transformation itself wouldn't cause any harm, but the effects of fighting and use of Sailor Moon's powers would certainly tire Usagi out, which could lead to serious problems. It went without saying that any use of the ginzuishou was to be even more strictly last-resort than usual.

The next question was the ginzuishou itself, and how _it_ would react to the pregnancy. In all the history of the Moon Kingdom, no daughter of the royal line had ever been so closely linked to the stone and its power. Not even Queen Serenity had been so fully intertwined with the ginzuishou as her daughter now was, and if the source of the crystal's power truly was the love of its wielder, what effect would the intensified love of a mother for her growing child have? How would close proximity to the stone's energy, should it suddenly grow or be altered, affect mother and child—or anyone else, for that matter?

Ami had put forth a particularly disturbing question: what might the ginzuishou's own peculiar awareness do to protect Usagi and her baby if they were to suddenly be threatened? Luna and Artemis had no idea, but given the sheer power of the thing and the rather extreme nature of its solutions to that sort of problem, nobody was eager to run the risk of finding out.

The solution to most of their potential problems was to keep Usagi under as constant a guard as they could manage, and to get her as far away from trouble as possible, should it materialize. Minako suggested calling Michiru, Haruka, and Hotaru—first to tell them the good news, and then to get them back to Tokyo as soon as possible so that they could aid in keeping watch on Usagi— but Usagi put her foot down. They had seen neither armored hide nor razor-sharp hair of a monster since defeating Galaxia, and there was no point in uprooting the Outer Senshi from their own day-to-day lives without cause. _If_ that cause ever appeared, Usagi promised to be the first one to make that call, but until then, everyone was to forget the idea.

The discussion of calling people brought up another point: when was Usagi going to tell Mamoru?

"Don't tell him," Ami had said quite suddenly, surprising the others.

"Why in the world not?" Rei had asked.

"Ryo-kun mentioned this to me last night," Ami explained. "Nothing bad will happen whether you tell Mamoru or not, but Ryo-kun sort of implied that you might want to wait until he actually comes home for a visit."

"Implied how?"

"Well, he walked out onto the balcony, looked up at the stars, and said that the expressions on our faces when you told _us_ were nothing compared to what Mamoru's going to look like when you tell _him._ He thought you might enjoy seeing that."

"Thanks," Usagi said, grinning. "I think I will."

"Ami-chan," Minako had asked then,"where exactly did Ryo-kun tell you this? We were downstairs last night, and Usagi's house doesn't have any balconies on the ground floor."

"This was after the party," Ami replied. "Mother was called to the hospital, so Ryo-kun walked me home, and..." She had suddenly stopped talking and blushed.

"And?" Makoto and Minako demanded together. "You invited him in?"

"No!" Ami said immediately, knowing exactly what they were thinking. "I mean, yes... I mean... we just talked," she finished lamely, face a fiery red.

Makoto and Minako groaned in unison, knowing that this was nothing more and nothing less than the truth.

The weeks afterwards had stretched into months, and things went more or less as they were supposed to. News of Usagi's condition raced around the school in no time, sparking the inevitable rumors and crude jokes, but none of those ever reached her ears. Umino's invisible network of informants allowed him to locate the sources for every last one of the ugly tales, and once that information was passed on to Makoto, the rumors dried up in short order. At least one Senshi was with Usagi at all times during daylight hours, and she had the faint suspicion that her friends were taking turns watching her at night. It got to the point where Usagi would have welcomed a monster attack, just to get a few minutes alone. But the department of supernatural menaces remained uncooperative, and no creatures appeared to distract the Senshi from their mission.

As far as their concerns about the ginzuishou went, there seemed to be nothing to worry about. Usagi had not noticed any particular change in the stone's usual soft glow, and Ami's repeated computer scans had not revealed any change in its energy field. Sometimes at night, though, Usagi would half-awaken and hear a strange, musical sound in her room, a sound that blended sighing wind chimes and softly ringing bells. The sound had the same haunting familiarity as the music of her star locket, a not-quite memory from a place and a time long ago, but it was even more vague. Despite her inability to remember where and when she had heard it, the music was soothing, and Usagi always drifted back into sleep with a feeling of safety.

Now it was New Year's Eve, and the Senshi had gathered at Ami's for a little celebration of their own.

***MILLENNIALS***

In truth, this was something of a housewarming party as well as a New YearÆs celebration. AmiÆs grandparents had decided to celebrate their forty- fifth wedding anniversary with an extended trip around the world, and Ami and her mother would be house-sitting for them for the next several months.

The Mizuno home was a comfortably mid-sized residence with a great deal of family history tucked away within its walls. Ami had spent many hours here as a child, either just for visits or when her grandmother was looking after her while her mother was at work, and she couldnÆt deny that she felt more comfortable here than she did in the apartment. The reason was that she and her mother had been in and out of their residence so often over the years that it had never become much more than the place where they stopped to sleep; it lacked that lived-in feel that Ami always noticed in her friendsÆ homes, even MakotoÆs apartment. In her grandparentsÆ house, though, Ami felt... at home.

"Close the door!" Rei shouted.

Which was one reason why sheÆd taken the precaution of hiding some of the more fragile pieces of family history before her friends came over tonight.

"But it's such a beautiful night," Usagi said, looking up at the winter sky. She was standing halfway in, halfway out of a sliding door that led to a balcony on the second floor of the house. Outside, the stars glimmered brightly around the shrinking sliver that was the moon; their winking light and the illumination from the city's countless windows and streetlights reflected off the snow and made it nearly as bright as day.

Caught by the beauty of the night, Usagi failed to notice that while it might be almost as bright as day outside, moonlight and starlight were, as sources of heat, not nearly as good as sunlight.

"It's sixteen below, odango-atama!" Rei shouted out between chattering teeth, yanking her inside before slamming the glass door shut practically in her friend's face. "Are you _trying_ to give yourself pneumonia? And what about the rest of us?"

"Calm down," Makoto told her, trying—and failing—to suppress a shiver.

"Yeah," Minako added,"spill out." Everyone blinked at the mangled expression.

"I think that's supposed to be 'chill' out," Ami corrected her, not even looking up from the book that rested in her lap.

"Oh. Well, chill out, then."

"Like I'm not cold enough already?" Rei muttered, rubbing her hands along her arms in an overacted bid to restore warmth. She let the matter drop, but made a point of sitting as far from Usagi and the door as she could, wrapped to the chin in a blanket. Usagi, leaning against the glass despite its chill, ignored Rei and continued to look up at the fading moon. She sighed once, a familiar enough sound to the others, and toyed with the ring she wore as her hands rested on her enlarged waistline.

"So," Minako asked Usagi, shifting around on the couch she shared with Makoto and the two curled-up cats so as to face their moonstruck leader,"what was his excuse this time?"

"Studies," Usagi replied flatly. In her mind's eye, she could see the letter that had arrived only the previous day. She had read and reread it several times, and though her memory was not usually the greatest, she recited it back to her friends in a manner even Ami would have been proud of:

Usako,

I'm not going to be able to make it back to you during the winter break. I know it's unfair of me not to have told you a few months ago—the way the postal service is, I wouldn't be surprised if it's already New Year's by the time this letter arrives, so you'll probably be ready to hang me out for the crows—but things have been really busy here, and I wasn't sure until a little while ago how it would all end up going.

Do you remember that intern program I told you about last time? Well, my preliminary application was accepted, but if I'm going to attend, there are three courses in my next term that I absolutely have to know inside and out. If I use the winter break to study, I know I'll get the marks I need to join the program in Tokyo—and a few weeks lost now and during the spring break mean I'll be back with you for all of the next two years, instead of having to keep coming back here.

Unfortunately, all this means that I won't see you again until summer. It's rough, and I deserve every word you care to fling at me, but if it makes you feel better, I promise to be completely miserable from now until the next time I see you.

I miss you,

Mamoru

"That was quite a recital," Artemis said.

"It ought to be," Luna replied with a yawn. "She spent an hour reading the letter—two, if you count all the histrionics."

"Bad?" Artemis inquired.

"She didn't manage to break anything," Luna said clinically,"but she did come up with some interesting plans for Mamoru. I think the nicest involved a tree, a rope, and a large stick. The letter itself is a mess."

"We haven't seen each other since the end of summer," Usagi went on. "I was all set for two weeks—or even one! Just one week!—of things being back to normal, and he has the... the... _gall_ to go and tell us he can't make it. And in a _letter!_" She made a wordless sound of anger, one fist clenched.

The other girls and the cats looked at each other. They knew Usagi wasn't really angry at Mamoru. Well, maybe a little—more likely a lot—but not as much as she claimed to be. The show of ire was just that; a show, a mask to cover Usagi's real feelings. They also noticed her use of the word"us" rather than just"me.""Us" was not the five of them, nor was it an unconscious use of the royal plural that the past Moon Princess and the future Neo-Queen might employ; "us" was Usagi and her baby. And Mamoru's baby. The one he still didn't know was on the way.

"An overseas phone call?" Rei forced herself to laugh. "Do you have any idea how expensive that would have been?"

"At least he doesn't try to hide anything," Makoto observed.

"And it is sort of sweet," Minako added,"how he's working himself silly just so you can see each other on a regular basis again."

"I think he's making the right choice," Ami said firmly. "Overseas study programs are extremely competitive, and he'll need excellent marks to even be considered. Never mind that he actually lives _here._"

"I know." Usagi sighed, her angry facade gone in a blink. "That doesn't mean we... I miss him any less." There was a moment of awkward silence before Minako glanced at the television.

"Hey, they're getting ready." The others all looked to the screen, where the local news was broadcasting from near the Tokyo Tower. Thousands of people had crowded into the park around the structure, which was completely dark. Large, double-sided electronic billboards stood at each corner of the tower's base, flashing patterns of digital fireworks above the crowd below.

"Luna," Usagi asked suddenly,"did we celebrate New Year's in the Moon Kingdom?"

"Yes," the black cat replied. "Of course, you have to remember that, back then, New Year's was celebrated at the beginning of spring. There were a few winter celebrations at about this time, too, but I couldn't really tell you which one would take place now; they all sort of blurred together."

"How did we celebrate, exactly?"

"The usual way," Artemis grinned. "Wine, women, song, and v-oomph!" He finished from under a pillow Minako had dropped on him.

"Joking aside," Luna said with a scathing glance at her smothered companion,"he's right. There wasn't all that much ceremony involved beyond a proclamation by the Queen telling everyone to go out and have fun. Not that anyone ever needed much encouragement for that."

"Here it goes," Makoto interrupted. Their attention turned back to the screen. Huge numbers had appeared on the boards and were slowly ticking away, the crowd roaring in chorus.

"GO!" the crowd on the television shouted. Ami frowned, distracted from the televised festivities by a faint echoing sound. Where was it coming from?

Overhead, unnoticed, a hole was opening in the ceiling, a hole which connected to a tunnel that seemed to swirl and spiral on into infinity.

"YON!" the crowd continued. Usagi stepped away from the door to get a better look at the television screen, unknowingly putting herself directly beneath the growing space in the ceiling.

"SAN!" Ami looked around, then up.

"NI!" Her eyes widened as she saw the hole—and more importantly, saw something falling down towards them from an impossible distance.

"ICHI!"

"LOOK OUT!" Ami shouted, leaping from her chair.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The crowd roared, fireworks exploding and confetti flying everywhere. The tower seemed to disintegrate in a rain of rainbow-colored fire, and lasers traced complex patterns through the air above the cheering crowd.

"Huh?" Usagi looked up just in time to recognize the phenomenon and get hammered by what felt like a meteorite impact, but was, in fact, merely Senshi Pluto, the Guardian of Time, falling from an unanticipated space/time vortex and landing most unceremoniously on her butt—and her Princess. Assuming that either of them were still conscious at that point, the subsequent arrival of Pluto's staff quickly remedied the problem, somehow managing to strike both its mistress and the girl she had crashed on across their respective heads before it clattered to a stop on Ami's floor.

For the first minute or so of the new year, as Usagi and Pluto lay in an unconscious heap on the floor, the only sound in that room was the televised cheering. Then Artemis, still half-buried under the pillow, spoke.

"We never used to do _that_ for New Year's."

***MILLENNIALS***

Senshi Pluto was over two thousand years old. For most of her life, she had lived in a place where she could observe the flow of Time without being touched by it, and had learned more about the world than any mortal historian could ever dream. Her control over her element was at once both subtle and profound, and she had, moreover, a curious ability to see what one wise man had once called"the big picture." Whether because of her immensely logical frame of mind, her timeless eternity of observation from the Time Gate, or due to some strange mystical power, Pluto could judge—in advance—what the result of a certain action was likely to be. She knew how Time was supposed to move and shape the world, and could take steps to correct mistakes before they were ever made. The young Inner Senshi were all in awe of her to one degree or another, for she had always seemed to be in complete control of a situation, knowing what had to be done before it was needed.

None of that had prepared Pluto for the sensation of being dumped out of her quiet solitude without so much as an explanation, to land disastrously on a being she loved and respected more than almost any other, and then, as a final insult, be knocked cold by her own weapon.

To say she was having a bad day would be putting it mildly.

At the moment, however, the Inner Senshi were unaware of their senior soldier's particular predicament. All they knew was that she was currently lying in a tangled heap with Usagi on Ami's floor.

Once the initial shock had passed, the girls moved quickly, assuming for the moment that Pluto's entrance had been the prelude to an attack. After switching off the television, Minako moved to cover the door, sliding it open just far enough so that she could look out into the hall; across the room, Makoto backed herself against the wall near the sliding door that Usagi had so recently been staring out through, hidden by the angle of the wall but ready to jump at anything that might come in from the balcony. Rei went directly to Usagi, first untangling and dragging her out from the pile Pluto's crash-landing had created, then checking to make sure she was merely unconscious and not more seriously hurt. After a few moments, the worry on Rei's face melted away into relief, and then a sort of wry fondness as Usagi began to snore softly.

Ami, meanwhile, attended to Pluto. She took a certain degree of reassurance in the fact that the Outer Senshi was in relatively the same condition as Usagi. Minus the pregnancy, of course. It probably meant that she hadn't been fighting when the portal had opened. Of course, it could also mean that she'd been caught by surprise, but as far as Ami knew, Pluto couldn't _be_ surprised—not when she was in the misty void that surrounded the Time Gate, anyway.

After five minutes had passed without monsters leaping in from other dimensions or tearing through the walls, the Senshi relaxed. Slightly. There was still the question of why Pluto was here, and whether or not something else had been responsible for her abrupt entrance, but the only person with the answers was, in Ami's estimation, likely to be asleep for some time yet.

Makoto helped Ami move Pluto to the larger couch while Rei and Minako moved Usagi to the other. After pulling a blanket over Pluto and brushing a few strands of dark hair away from the sleeping Senshi's face, Ami turned, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she came face-to-face—so to speak—with the hovering key-staff. The weapon hung motionless in the air near the middle of the couch, ignoring the stares and the law of gravity with equal ease.

"That thing never ceases to be weird," Artemis said. "Check this out." He padded over to the floating weapon, rose on his hind legs, placed his paws on the end of the staff, and pushed. Nothing happened. Artemis pushed a second time, and again, Pluto's staff did not budge. "Creepy, isn't it?"

The girls did not have time to answer, as the sound of a door opening echoed up from downstairs.

"Ami! Are you here?"

"Mother," Ami said needlessly.

"I thought you said she was at some doctor's New Year's party," Makoto said. "How are we going to explain _this?_" She waved her arms, taking in Usagi, Pluto, and the quietly floating staff in the same gesture.

"At least the hole in the ceiling is gone," Artemis joked lamely.

"Never mind the humor," Minako told him. "Do you have any useful suggestions?"

"I'll try to stall her," Ami said, heading out the door. "Do something about Pluto so she looks—well, normal. And hide that staff!"

Fixing Pluto's appearance was easy enough. Minako pulled the blanket Ami had placed over the sleeping Senshi a little higher to hide the distinctive fuku collar, and then slid the tiara from Pluto's forehead, tucking it away behind a pillow.

The staff proved more troublesome. Makoto was trying to pull it towards the closet, but her face looked as if she were trying to move a mountain. Rei and Minako added their own strength, but even all three of them together couldn't budge the staff from its place—and the sounds of footsteps were on the stairs. Rei looked back at the door and then turned to confront the staff.

"MOVE, you lousy stick!"

It moved.

In point of fact, it vanished. Between one blink of an eye and the next, Pluto's staff was gone.

The girls didn't have time to question it. Artemis yelped in surprise as Minako picked him up and sat them both down in front of the television. Rei sat down on the armrest of the couch where Usagi lay, and Makoto leaned against the wall near the sliding door, trying to look casual and match Usagi's earlier gaze. The footsteps were almost at the door before Minako remembered to turn the television back on.

"Hello, girls."

"Ohayo, Mizuno-san," they replied.

"Ami," her mother asked, looking back over her shoulder,"who is that young lady?"

"Her name is Meiou Setsuna, kaachan," Ami replied, trying to sound relaxed,"a friend from out of town. She just arrived tonight, and she was pretty tired."

"Usagi-chan was as well, I see," Mrs. Mizuno said, smiling. "That's to be expected."

"If you don't mind my saying it," Rei said quickly,"that's a very nice dress."

"Do you like it?" Ami's mother smiled and twirled about once. The dress was one of those sleeveless designs that hung off one shoulder and left the other bare, except that this one _had_ sleeves; the right one was ordinary, while the left, lacking any fabric on that shoulder to attach to, was more like a long, fingerless glove. Except for that sleeve-glove, the dress was a single piece of dark blue material, against which Mrs. Mizuno had chosen to wear gold earrings and a matched necklace. It _was_ quite a nice dress, although not exactly what the girls had pictured when Ami had told them about the 'hospital party' her mother was going to.

"Broken any hearts yet tonight?" Minako smiled.

"Mina-chan," Ami protested, blushing, but her mother just laughed.

"Not yet, dear, but as they say, the night is young."

"_Mother!_"

"I just wanted to check and make sure you girls were okay," Mrs. Mizuno went on, ignoring her daughter's embarrassment. "I tried calling a little while ago, but the phone lines seem to be down." The girls blinked. Rei reached down for the phone next to the couch and lifted the receiver up to her ear.

"No dial tone," she reported. "Did somebody knock over a telephone pole? Or was there a blizzard in the last five minutes?"

"It isn't snowing," Makoto said, looking up at the sky. "I don't even see a cloud."

"Hang on," Minako replied, directing their attention to the television.

"We interrupt our New Year's Eve coverage with an important update. City officials have informed us that phone lines in Juuban and the surrounding districts are currently out of order. The problem is attributed to a software glitch in the computers which regulate the network, and work is underway to reroute the affected lines to backup systems until the computers have been repaired. Officials expect the rerouting will take several hours to complete, and public use of the lines will likely remain problematic for the next few days, but emergency lines to fire, police, and medical services are still operational. The city of Tokyo apologizes for the inconvenience, and wishes everyone a happy New Year's Eve."

"Wonderful," Makoto said. Minako shook her head.

"Y2K in action, hmm?"

"I guess so," Ami admitted. "But the city finished upgrading its computers over six months ago. There shouldn't have been any problems." Rei rolled her eyes.

"So much for modern technology."

***MILLENNIALS***

In one of Tokyo's central telecommunications centers, several workmen were moving through orderly rows of computer processors. Many of the machines hummed and sparkled with little rows of red and green lights, rather like digital Christmas trees. Others were dark and silent, and when the workmen passed any of those, they stopped to examine the defective tower and make notes.

"Some programming error," the lead workman said, looking up from an opened maintenance panel. "Half the circuit boards in here are fried."

"Same thing over here," another man replied. A woman looked up from a functioning computer monitor, on which were displayed representations of the rows of processors. Many were shown in red, as 'inactive.'

"Did we have a power surge in here?"

"I don't think so," the first man answered. "The amount of current it would have taken to cook these boards would have melted the power lines, too, but I don't see any damage to the wiring."

"Here's another one," the fourth man said from further down the line. "Wires intact, chips fried. It'll take days to replace all this." The woman turned at a bleep from her computer.

"Number 19 just went down."

"I've got it," the second worker replied, moving over to the afflicted unit. He fiddled with the access panel for a moment and then opened it. His eyes went wide. "What in the... Hiroshi, get over here!"

"What is it?" Hiroshi moved over next to his fellow worker and looked into the computer. Something inside looked back at them both. Something that was not a part of the machine, but a strange, organic blotch, clinging to the circuit boards with tiny tendrils. As they watched, the thing shimmered with energy and seemed to melt into the boards, leaving them in the blackened and ruined state they had seen in the other machines. "What _is_ it?" Hiroshi repeated.

"Wh... wha... what..." Both workmen stared in shock as a slow, croaking voice issued from the computer. "What is it?" The words were clearer this time. "What is it?" Now the voice was recognizable as Hiroshi's. "What is it? What is it? Whatisit? Whatisitwhatisitwhatis..." As the words accelerated into a screeching blur, several of the inactive computers whirred to life.

"Hiroshi!" The lead workman yelled. "What did you do?"

Tiny popping noises became audible through the plastic casing of the computers, as if ten thousand tiny hammers were battering away at each of them from the inside. As the noise grew, narrow wires burst from each computer, lancing across the aisles to sink deep into other machines. The woman jumped aside as several of the seeking wires shot into the disk drive of her computer. The other workers scrambled out of the way of the growing number of wires.

By now, the outer surface of the computer in which Hiroshi and the other workman had seen the bizarre thing was covered by a greenish mass. Many of the other computer processors were similar, and the substance was spreading across the wires sprouting from them. In only a few seconds, most of the equipment in the room had been speared by the tiny lines, creating a vast, chaotic web.

A security camera in the far corner, connected to one of the infected computers by a long length of wire, turned to view the five workers as they backed towards the door. Wiring erupted from terminals all over the room, from light fixtures in the ceiling, from wall sockets, from everywhere.

The noise of shattering tiles and cracking walls drowned out the screams.

***MILLENNIALS***

After walking her mother to the door and reassuring her several times that they would be fine, Ami went back upstairs to rejoin her friends. Minako and Makoto were sitting near the balcony door, discussing the dress Mrs. Mizuno had been wearing, and Rei was checking Usagi for signs of consciousness.

"Any improvement?"

Rei shook her head. "This _is_ Usagi we're talking about here," she added with a rueful smile.

"I _still_ say that was too nice a dress for a get-together with a bunch of doctors," Minako insisted.

"And _I_ still think you've been reading too many romance novels," Makoto replied.

"Oh, look who's talking!"

"What are they going on about?" Ami asked.

"Those two?" Rei chuckled. "They're debating whether your mother went to a party or a date. That dress has Mina-chan convinced your mother's trying to impress someone." Rei looked at the two arguing Senshi. "You might want to give some thought to keeping Mina-chan away from your house for the next few weeks; if she gets it into her head that there's a potential romance brewing here, she's going to do everything she can to help—and you know what a disaster she is when she's being helpful."

"Thanks for the reminder," Ami groaned.

"Don't look so glum," Artemis said from the arm of the couch. "I'll keep an eye on her for you."

On the back of the couch, Luna rolled her eyes. "And that's supposed to make her feel better?"

"Keep it down, Luna... m'trying to sleep..." They all looked down as Usagi mumbled her way back into semi-consciousness. Her left eye opened slowly, taking in two friends, two cats, and the ceiling beyond. "What hit me?"

"Pluto," Rei replied. Usagi sat up so fast that her head nearly collided with Rei's and Ami's.

"_Pluto?_" Ami and Rei both clamped their hands over Usagi's mouth.

"Not so loud," Ami said. "She's still asleep."

"Forry," Usagi mumbled. After the others pulled their hands away, she went on in a loud whisper. "How did she get here?"

"We're not sure yet," Ami said quietly. "You've both been out cold since she... uh... landed. Aside from being unconscious, she seems to be okay, so I don't think she was fighting." Usagi looked around the room.

"I seem to remember getting hit by her staff," she said flatly. "Where is it?"

"It disappeared," Rei admitted.

"What?"

"You heard me. Ami's mother came home to check on us—the phones are out, by the way—so we had to try and make Pluto look as ordinary as possible. We couldn't get the staff to budge so much as an inch, and Mizuno-san was practically at the door, so I got angry and told it to move."

"And it moved?" Rei shrugged.

"What can I say? When I talk, things listen." She drummed her knuckles across Usagi's forehead. "Though some listen better than others, it seems."

The fight got started right then and there.

Rei and Usagi had made it as far as the point of grinding their teeth and shooting invisible daggers at each other from their eyes when they noticed Pluto beginning to move.

"Mmm..." Her eyes opened much more slowly than Usagi's, but with generally the same sort of bleary-eyed confusion.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Minako said.

"Thank you," Pluto said slowly. She tried to sit up and began to sway until Ami caught her.

"Take it easy," she advised the older girl. "You hit your head."

"I believe it," Pluto said with a wince. "My brain feels like it's going to explode."

"I know the feeling," Usagi said dryly. "You need to work on your landings." She stopped laughing when she noticed how Pluto was looking at her; blankly. Actually, now that she looked more closely, Usagi realized that Pluto's entire face had the same empty quality as her eyes. It wasn't her usual reserved expression, but something else, something which set off a caution light in Usagi's head. "What is it?"

"Who are you?" Everyone in the room stared.

"What do you mean?" Usagi said, dumbfounded.

"I don't remember..." Pluto began. Then her voice trailed off into silence, and a look of stark terror came over her. "I don't remember," she repeated, tears welling up in her eyes. The awful finality in her words told the Senshi that she had forgotten far more than Usagi's name.

Pluto did not know who she was.

The other Senshi and the two guardian cats looked at each other in despair. Usagi stood and walked over to the other couch in silence. Pluto flinched away as Usagi—a complete stranger—sat down next to her. Usagi reached out and gently turned Pluto's face towards her, taking the older girl's hand and letting her feel both the shared fear and the unconditional love reflected in Usagi's eyes. For just a moment, something in Pluto's mind reacted, a shadow of a memory, an echo of a dream. For just a moment, she knew, without knowing how, that this blue-eyed girl, this stranger, was a friend.

Then the moment passed, and emptiness returned. Senshi Pluto did not exist; her body was now home only to a frightened young woman with no history, no memory, no name. She hung her head and began to cry. Gentle arms enfolded her in understanding, but she did not know whose arms they were, and the tears only grew worse as the nameless girl curled into a ball of fear, turning her face away from these strangers who should not be strangers.

"Shhh," Usagi said softly. "It'll be all right. I promise, it'll be all right." She looked at her other friends, eyes rich with tears of her own, silently asking a question.

*It will be all right, won't it?*

Their own gazes held no answers, and Usagi squeezed her eyes shut, two tears working their way down her cheeks.

In her arms, Pluto continued to cry.

***SAILOR SAYS***

**Ami**: Today we gained more evidence that Usagi-chan is apparently a designated landing zone for people traveling through space and time.

**Usagi** _(pushing on-screen from the left)_: We _also_ learned that if I ever find out who's been responsible for dropping people on me out of nowhere, there's going to be one almighty reckoning for it.

_(Cut to a shot of Balance, gavel in hand, looking suddenly like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.)_

**Usagi**: And I've got a few choice things I'm saving up for Mamo-chan, too, if he tries to announce any more surprises to me by mail. A letter! A lousy letter! Oohhh...

_(Cut to a shot of Mamoru, looking up from his books at a nearby television screen from which Usagi is glaring back at him with the words"Sailor Says" below her. He quickly changes the channel and breathes a nervous sigh of relief.)_

**Pluto** _(entering from the right, head bandaged)_: Calm down, Usagi.

**Usagi** _(rounding on Pluto)_: And _you!_ Don't any of you time-traveling, dimension-hopping types know how to use a _door?_ You're lucky I have a soft spot for people with total memory loss, because I've got a good mind to...

_(On cue, another space/time vortex swirls open above Usagi. Ami and Pluto jump clear as ChibiUsa, Genki from"Monster Rancher," the kids from"Digimon," Trunks from"Dragonball Z," and little kawaii versions of SG-1 fall out and crash-land on Usagi in a massive pile.)_

**Usagi**: Oomph!

**ChibiUsa**: Sorry. _(She looks at Usagi)_ Have you been pigging out on donuts again?

**Kawaii Tiel'c**: I do not recognize this place, O'Neil. We appear to have taken a wrong turn.

**Kawaii O'Neil**: Ya think?

**Tai**: Who the heck are these guys?

**Usagi**: Okay, now I'm angry! Moon Eternal, Make-Up! _(She transforms, throwing everyone off.)_ NOW you're gonna get it!

**Genki**: Wow!

**Izzy**: What in the world was _that?_

**Pluto**: I thought she couldn't do that right now.

**Ami**: Never underestimate the power of irritation.

_(Kawaii Tiel'c fires his staff-weapon at Sailor Moon; at the same time, Trunks lets loose with his trademark "Burning Attack." After the smoke clears, an extra-crispy version of Sailor Moon coughs up a puff of dust.)_

**BBQ Sailor Moon**: THAT DOES IT!

_(She proceeds to chase the entire assembly off-screen, leaving Ami, Pluto, and ChibiUsa behind to stare after her.)_

**ChibiUsa**: Pu? Is it too late for you to tell me I'm adopted?

**Pluto** _(looking confused)_: Who are you?

28/11/99 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Well, that was fun. :)

For the continuity freaks out there—you know who you are—this story obviously takes place after the last season of the official—see also: Japanese—series. Some of you—again, you know who you are—are probably slightly irked with me that it's close to five years later, and the Senshi haven't changed with the times like the rest of us.

It's called creative license, people. I wanted to do a turn-of-the-millennium story using the Senshi, so I did—and if I have to play fast and loose with the space-time continuum to get the job done, I will. Additionally, those who know their Sailormoon calendar and do some careful counting on their fingers may note a slight discrepancy in the length of Usagi's pregnancy. For those who didn't notice or bother to count, it's a bit long. Let's review, shall we?

A) Sailor Moon fact: ChibiUsa is born in June; the 30th, I believe.  
B) Real fact: Human pregnancies traditionally last nine months.

Trace back nine months from our target date of June 30, and you wind up in the back end of September. Problem is:

C) Other real fact: Universities start their mainstream courses in early September, or even late August. And;  
D) Story fact: Mamoru is still studying in the US.

That presents a bit of a conundrum, doesn't it? Solving the problem by having Mamoru show up over Thanksgiving Break—do they even have that in Japan?—or at Christmas would have had the end result of making ChibiUsa about two or three months premature. That sort of bothered me, so I went the other way. I just hope that Usagi—and any female readers who've gone through the whole nine months themselves—aren't too upset with my solution of one more month.

Also, for anyone who objects to my rather harsh treatment of Pluto, I apologize, but it's fairly important that she have this breakdown right now. If you object to it more because it's out-of-character, remember that her memory—and thus a major part of her personality—is gone. How would YOU react to something like that?

Well, for those looking forward to the next installment, I'll try not to take too long. The thing is, I'm going to try and spread this mess out so the story runs the course of a year—the year 2000, natch—so it could very easily take that long to finish. And then again, given the way I can write at times, it might not. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?


	2. Chapter 2

Usagi closed the door quietly as she and Ami stepped out of the room where Pluto now lay in a deep and, hopefully, dreamless sleep on Ami's donated bed. They walked along the hall in silence, returning to the den where the other Senshi and their guardian cats waited quietly. Minako was the first to speak as Ami and Usagi entered the room.

"How is she?"

"Asleep," Ami replied. "Beyond that, who knows?"

"Did she say anything else?" Luna asked. Usagi shook her head.

"Luna, I don't think she even remembers her own name. It was almost all we could do to get her to stop crying, and after that she was too tired to stay awake." Usagi settled herself on the couch next to Minako, sighing. Her eyes were still tinted red from her own tears.

"There's not much we can do right now except let her sleep," Ami said, taking a seat next to Rei on the other couch, "but we should make some plans."

"Do we have any ideas about what could have done this to her?" Makoto asked from her place near the balcony door.

"Only that it almost has to be something supernatural," Luna replied, "and likely an intelligent something."

"Why do you say that?" Usagi asked.

"There are a lot of things in the world that can lead to amnesia of one kind or another," Luna explained. "Physical trauma or emotional shock are the most common, but Pluto is a Senshi, and all of you have a certain degree of protection from your powers against ordinary injuries. In the case of memory, it's sort of like the back-up files on a computer. Everything you see and hear becomes a part of you, a part of your powers; when your bodies or minds are affected in such a way that you would normally lose part of your memories, your power reacts and allows you to hold on to them instead. The process is automatic, _unless_ a stronger power interferes with your own. That was why I had to restore you after you fought Beryl. The ginzuishou restored you to life by sending you back in time, but it sent you to a point before you had learned how to harness your powers, so it blanked out your memories of the whole year in the process."

"Luna," Makoto said, looking confused, "you and Artemis didn't remember who Usagi was until the ginzuishou was put back together, right? So if you got sent back to a point before it restored your memories, how could either of you know who we were to restore us?"

"Well," Luna said. "Artemis and I were able to remember because we've had our abilities all our lives. Everything we remembered because of the ginzuishou was imprinted on our own back-up file, if that's what you want to call it, and since it couldn't send us back to a time when we _didn't_ have our skills, we were able to remember."

"I _guess_ that makes sense," Makoto said dubiously.

"What about Ryo-kun?" Ami asked suddenly. "How is it that he was able to remember me... I mean, us... I mean..." Ami blushed when the others looked at her, most of them with knowing smiles. "Does it have something to do with the fact that he carried one of the Rainbow Crystals?" she asked, pronouncing each word very carefully.

"It might," Luna admitted. "It's entirely possible that Urawa's powers gave him the same kind of memory-preservation as you girls have, so if the point in time to which the ginzuishou reset everything was _after_ he'd acquired his ability, he would have retained his previous memories. I think. Then again, none of the others seem to remember the whole business."

"We don't know for sure that they can't remember," Makoto said. "Most of 'em were sort of dazed after Usagi-chan changed them back to normal, so they probably just dismissed the whole thing as a bad dream." She frowned again. "But if that happened before we went back, then they should be able to recall the entire year, and then... this is giving me a headache," she growled.

"Ryo-kun _did_ say once that he'd been able to predict things since he was little," Ami said. "He just got better at it with practice."

"And Joe's still a legend at the arcade," Usagi added. "Whether he's still using that mind trick he showed Mako-chan, I don't know. Reika's still a biologist, that priest we met is still preaching, Yumemi still paints, and Rei's grandfather is still... uh..."

"Twisted and hyperactive?" Rei said wryly. "Don't forget that cat who had a crush on Luna," she added. "I saw him a few months back, and he's still the size of a small army."

"_What_ cat?" Artemis asked curiously.

"Oh, no one in particular," Luna said hastily, suddenly even more red- faced than Ami had been—which was a neat trick through her fur. "He sort of saved me from an army of alley cats before Zoicite turned him into a youma. Anyway," she continued hurriedly, ignoring Artemis, "we've gotten off track here. Usagi wanted to know why I thought Pluto's memory loss was the work of a supernatural force, and not just the result of hitting her head."

"Right," Usagi said. "Do you think you might be able to restore her memories the same way you did ours?"

"Ordinarily, I'd say yes, but Pluto seems to have lost a lot more of her memories than any of you did. That might only mean it'll take longer to restore her, but it might also mean that I won't be able to help her. In either case, I'd like to wait until after she's rested before I try anything."

"I think we can wait until tomorrow," Ami said, "but we'd better think up a story in case Mother starts asking more questions—and just in case it doesn't work."

"Don't say things like that!" Usagi insisted. "It _has_ to work!"

"Usagi," Rei said, "we all want it to work, but Ami's right. We have to be ready for the possibility that whatever is wrong with Pluto is something we can't fix right away, or maybe even something that we can't fix at all. If Luna can get her back to normal, fine, but if it doesn't work, we need to know what to do."

"Beyond making her comfortable and seeing to it that she has somewhere to stay," Minako said glumly, "is there anything else we _can_ do if Pluto doesn't get her memory back?"

"We might try calling the Outers," Makoto said after a moment of thought. "Pluto never said very much about herself to any of _us,_ but she lived with them for a while. They might be able to tell her something about herself that could shake the rest loose."

"What about that staff?" Usagi asked. "I got my memories back the first time when the ginzuishou was put back together, so maybe if Pluto got her staff back..."

"That's assuming, of course, that we had any idea where or even _when_ the blasted thing went," Rei pointed out.

"And whose fault was _that?_" Usagi muttered.

"Don't try to blame this on me, odango-atama!" Rei shot back.

"You're the one who made it disappear!" Usagi shouted.

"Both of you, stop it!" Luna snapped. "This isn't..." *the time for more of your childish bickering* was what she had been going to say, but at that moment, they heard an awful scream from down the hall, followed immediately by the sound of shattering glass.

Even four months pregnant, Usagi was out of the room before the others could do more than get to their feet.

***MILLENNIALS***

She awoke suddenly, alone in a bed and a dark room that she did not recognize. Her body felt drained and weak; her back in particular felt bruised, though she had no idea why, and her face was sticky with dried tears.

*I... cried? Do I do that?*

There was no response from the emptiness in her mind. There wasn't much of anything in her mind, she realized. Some hazy memories of waking up surrounded by strangers, panicking, crying—*I guess I do cry*—being led away by someone with gentle eyes and strong arms... but before all that, nothing. A wall beyond which her consciousness could not pass.

She rose and stepped out of the bed, noticing as she did that her feet were bare, the floor was carpeted, and a pair of boots were tucked against the side of the bed, with long-backed gloves folded and laid neatly across the feet. There was a little light coming in through the half-closed door on the other side of the room, enough to guide her towards another door and the bathroom beyond. She blinked once when her hand found the light switch, and then again when she noticed the mirror set into the wall above the sink.

*What do I look like?* she wondered, turning to face the reflection.

The face looking back at her was that of a young woman, older than what she had expected after waking up with a group of teenaged girls gathered around her, but not greatly so. Her hair was dark green and very long, though a bit tangled, and her eyes were deep red. All in all, despite the damage done by her tears, she thought it was a rather attractive face.

*Or maybe that's just my ego talking,* she thought with a wry smile. That smile shifted into a puzzled frown as her eyes drifted down to regard what else the mirror had to show her. That is not to say that she was displeased with what she saw. She was actually quite satisfied with her figure—even a bit smug that it was in such good shape—but she couldn't understand _why_ she was dressed like she was.

*Maybe I was at a costume party or something,* she thought, taking in the form-fitting fuku with its wide collar, ribbons, and miniskirt. *At least I _hope_ I was at a costume party,* she added nervously, realizing just how much of her legs the short skirt revealed. They were nice legs, but...

After checking the unusual outfit for pockets and the possibility of an ID card—*how do I know what that is?*—and finding neither, she decided to ignore the clothes for now and clean up.

Once the tear stains had been washed away, the face in the mirror looked much better. She looked at it for a long time, hoping—praying—that the image before her would jar something loose in her head.

It didn't. Not even a name.

She felt like crying again, but even more than that, she felt angry. At herself for not being able to remember. At the world in general for doing this to her. At the mirror for not showing her what she wanted to know. Her hands clenched on the rim of the counter as the fury built.

"Who am I?" she asked aloud. Even the sound of her own voice was still new and unfamiliar, and it too failed to set off any signal of recognition. The feeling of sick fury grew until her entire body shook with the effort of suppressing it, and finally, she could contain it no longer; with a howl of rage, she lashed out at the nearest target.

After the pieces of the broken mirror stopped falling, she pulled her hand back slowly. Where she expected to see slashed and bleeding knuckles, there was not even a bruise. The blow had been guided by nothing but rage, and yet her body seemed to know instinctively how to reposition itself for maximum effect and minimal personal harm. A useful piece of knowledge, that.

*Am I an athlete of some sort? A fighter? Or something worse?*

She heard footsteps in the hall and was turning to face the door almost before she realized it. The light in the bedroom flickered on as the five girls she recalled from before entered. The one in the lead was the blue-eyed blonde with the peculiar hairstyle, the one that had almost seemed familiar. She looked at the empty bed before noticing the light in the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" the girl asked, stepping slowly into the bathroom. "We heard the crash, and we weren't sure what..."

"Who are you people? Where am I?"

"First thing's first," the short-haired girl said firmly. "Do you know _who_ you are?"

"No. Do... do you know who I am?"

"Not completely." The blonde girl sighed. "Why don't we sit down? This may take some time to explain." She looked closely at the taller girl, slowly extending her right hand. "Please, don't be afraid. We're your friends."

"Why should I believe you?" The blonde girl's hand stopped and then withdrew. She actually seemed to be hurt by the question.

"Because it's the truth?" she replied hesitantly.

"You're going to have to do better than that."

"I can't." The girl was silent for a moment. "I know you're scared, and I know you can't remember us. Anything I could try to use to prove we're your friends is gone. All I can do is promise that we want to help, and ask that you trust us. Just a little. Okay?" Maybe it was that flash of almost-memory, but something made the girl sound sincere.

"All right." She followed them back into the bedroom, sitting up on the bed with her back to the wall. With some help from the dark-haired girl, the blonde sat down on the end of the bed. The girl with short hair settled down on the bed between the other two occupants, and the dark-haired one knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed. The tall brunette leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed, while the second blonde took a seat on a wooden chest next to her. Two cats were in the room as well, the black one sitting on the bed, the white one curled up in the lap of the second blonde girl.

The was a moment of silence as the blonde girl played with a ring she wore -*Is she married?*—apparently thinking about where to start.

"What do you want to know first? Who you are, where you are, or who we are?"

"I want to know all of it, but... it might be easier to ask questions if I knew your names first." The blonde smiled.

"All right then." She turned to the blue-haired girl. "This is Mizuno Ami. This," she said, pointing to the dark-haired girl, "is Hino Rei. The girl by the door is Kino Makoto, and the one on the chest is Aino Minako. This," she went on, patting the black cat next to her, "is Luna, and that self-absorbed furball in Mina-chan's lap is called Artemis. It's a he, by the way, and he hates being teased about the name, so feel free to."

"Hush," Minako giggled, covering her furry friend's face with one hand as he started to retort.

"And you?"

"Tsukino Usagi," the blonde replied. "Both of us," she added somewhat oddly, indicating her belly and smiling.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." Usagi smiled again. "Now that you know who we are, I'll try to explain who you are. Your name is Meiou Setsuna."

"Se... Setsuna...?" *I... I like it.*

"Now," Usagi said, "it gets kind of complicated." She looked at Setsuna, thinking about how to proceed. "Do you know why you're dressed like that?" she asked at last.

"No," Setsuna—*Yes. Setsuna. I am Setsuna.*—replied.

"Well, it has to do with who you are. Or maybe what you are. It depends on how you look at it." Usagi frowned, tugging at the locket attached to her shirt. "This might go better with a visual aid. I'll..."

"Usagi," Rei said warningly.

"Rei, I know we agreed I wouldn't do this except in an emergency, but I think this qualifies, don't you?"

"You're not thinking, Usagi. There are five of us, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry." She released the locket, blushing. "I just..."

"I know," Rei sighed.

"What are you talking about?" *What does a locket have to do with how I'm dressed?* "And what did you mean, 'visual aid?'" The girls looked at each other.

"I've got it," Makoto said, stepping away from the door and pulling a small, green and gold pen from a pocket in her slacks. Something in Setsuna's mind pushed forward at the sight of the odd little symbol on the tip of the pen.

"That's the symbol for Jupiter, isn't it? Why would you be carrying something like that around?" Makoto smiled.

"This is why. JUPITER CRYSTAL POWER, MAKE-UP!"

"Wha..." Setsuna's words cut off as a bright flash of light swallowed Makoto. When it faded, someone else was standing in her place. *That outfit is almost the same as mine,* Setsuna realized.

"Meet Sailor Jupiter," Usagi told Setsuna.

"What happened to Makoto? Where is she?"

"Look a little closer," the new arrival suggested. Setsuna frowned; the other girls were silent, watching her as if waiting for something, so she did as she was told and took a second look at the tall stranger. Something about her face was familiar. And the voice. It was almost as if... Setsuna blinked.

"You... Makoto?"

"Got it in one." Jupiter grinned. Her gaze grew momentarily distant, as if she were looking inwards rather than outwards, and her uniform disintegrated in a burst of dancing ribbons and electric sparks, leaving Makoto behind, as she had been before.

"Can... can you all do that?"

"Yes," Usagi replied. "Ami, Rei, and Minako become Sailors Mercury, Mars, and Venus, respectively. I become Sailor Moon. Although," she added, making a face, "these busybodies haven't let me transform since they found out I was pregnant."

"We put it to a vote, odango-atama," Rei stated flatly, "and you agreed with the rest of us that it might not be safe. It was your call, so quit complaining."

"I'm allowed to change my mind, aren't I?"

"Sure," Rei agreed. "You can change it as often as you like. We're still not going to let you take stupid risks."

"_Stupid?_" Usagi protested. "Are you calling me stupid?"

"No, I'm not!" Rei hollered back at her. "And quit screeching in my ear!"

"SCREECHING?" Usagi screeched.

"STOP IT!" Luna roared—or maybe growled. She was really too small to generate a true lion-scale roar, but she could earn points for effort. "Honestly, you two pick the worst times for these... oops." Luna turned her head to look at Setsuna, who was staring at her, and then covered her eyes with one paw. "Oh dear."

"You can talk?"

"Nice going, Luna." Artemis commented, still curled up in Minako's lap. "What's one more shock to her system going to matter?" He opened one eye to glance at Setsuna. "Well, you might as well go for the whole nine yards," he suggested.

"You might be right," Luna admitted. She padded across the bed and sat down in front of Setsuna. "Scared?" she asked.

"Yes." *Am I going to go insane now, too?*

"Well, you have a right to be afraid. And no," Luna added in a long- suffering tone, recognizing the look, "you're not going crazy, and this is not a dream. Artemis and I _can_ talk, and Makoto _did_ just turn into someone else. The only thing wrong with your mind is that a lot of it seems to have been closed off." She looked at Setsuna closely. "Exactly how much can you remember?"

"I'm not sure. The first _memory_ I have is waking up in the other room, but there are all sorts of bits of information floating around." She closed her eyes, and when she spoke again, it was in a recitory manner. "'Hark, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the dawn, and fair Juliet is the east.' The square of the length of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the other two sides squared. The speed of light is approximately 295,000 kilometers per second. What's a henway? About two pounds." Setsuna opened her eyes again. "Right now, I could give you the value of pi out to ten million decimal places, recite every word in the dictionaries of at least ten languages, or write down the recipe for duck flamb . I have no idea where any of it is coming from, and I can't get it to stop."

"That's a start, at least." Luna paused. "There is a way that I might be able to restore your memory," she suggested hesitantly. "Do you trust me?"

"I'm not sure. I think so. What are you going to do?"

Luna responded with a beam of light, linking their foreheads together. Setsuna's eyes widened as the jumble information in her mind began to rapidly rearrange itself; Luna frowned and then fixed her face into an expression of extreme concentration. The Senshi watched as the dark red sign of Pluto flickered into existence on Setsuna's forehead, then just as quickly faded out. The sign appeared again, shone brightly, and then faded a second time.

"This isn't how it's supposed to work," Artemis said suddenly. "Luna! Let her go! Get out of her mind!"

The beam remained in place.

"Usagi!" Artemis barked, all traces of humor gone. "Something's wrong! Get Luna away from Pluto! Break the link! Now!"

"How? What do I do?"

"Just move her! Hurry!"

Usagi reached for Luna, but Ami was closer. As soon as Luna had been moved aside, the mindlink flickered out of existence, and Setsuna slumped back against the wall, sweating. In Ami's arms, Luna went limp.

"Are you okay?" Usagi asked, leaning forward to lay a gentle hand on Setsuna's shoulder. The elder Senshi scrunched her eyes tightly shut and took a deep breath, nodding mutely in response. Usagi looked over to where Luna was slowly lifting her head. "Luna?"

"I'm fine, Usagi. Just a bit of a headache." She looked up at Setsuna. "Did it work? Can you remember anything?"

"No. The jumble seems to have sorted itself out, but beyond that..." Setsuna winced. "Is it supposed to hurt that much?"

"No," Luna replied with a wince of her own. "It's not supposed to hurt at all."

"What went wrong?" Artemis asked. "It's not like you haven't done this before."

"I couldn't find the memories," Luna explained. "Pluto's head is full of all kinds of information, but it's all just a bunch of random facts. There's no trace of anything even remotely connected to her own life or the Senshi."

"Like what Beryl did to Mamoru?" Rei guessed.

"Not even close," Luna disagreed. "Beryl was almost as careless as she was powerful. When she blanked out Mamoru's memories, she either didn't or couldn't confine the effect to just part of his mind, and she left little bits and pieces of memory behind, which allowed Usagi to break the spell. Whatever happened to Pluto is a lot more precise. It's limited to just a few memories rather than everything she knew, but whoever did this makes Beryl look like an amateur. They didn't leave _anything_ behind that I could see."

"Pluto?" Setsuna asked.

"That's you," Usagi said. "But don't tell anyone. Secret identity and all that."

"I see." She looked down at the fuku. "How do I change back?"

"It's pretty automatic," Ami explained. "Just concentrate on changing, and it'll happen."

"It helps if you get a mental picture of yourself as you normally look fixed in your mind," Minako added.

Pluto closed her eyes, trying to recall the image from the mirror, and take away the tiara, the earrings, the collar... Somewhere in the middle of building the image, she felt a curious shift, and then a great surge of dizziness. When it had passed, she could tell that she was wearing something else. She opened her eyes, and sure enough, the fuku had been replaced by a purple jumper and white blouse. The boots beside the bed had altered as well; the heels were lower and thicker than before, and the tops were now lined with a thick ring of insulation. A long winter overcoat in the same color as the jumper was neatly folded on the bed next to her, with not one but _two_ pairs of soft gloves—one thick, the other extremely fine—tucked through the belt alongside a furry, purple-dyed hat and an emerald green scarf made of what might even have been silk. Setsuna looked herself over, noting that her transformation had not been nearly as obvious as Makoto's. At least, not where her body was concerned.

"Is there... does anyone have a mirror?"

"Here," Ami said, handing Setsuna a small, blue-rimmed hand mirror from her bedside dresser. She smiled. "Just be nicer to it than you were to the other one."

"Oh," Setsuna said, blushing faintly. "Yes. Sorry about that." She looked at her reflection, tracing the lines of her face with one hand. "I don't _look_ any different."

"Well," Usagi said, "you're a little older than we are. When one of us transforms, we seem to age a couple of years. I'm not really sure why."

"It's to protect you," Luna said.

"From our enemies?" Minako asked.

"And from your own powers," Luna added. "Why do you think Artemis and I keep having you conduct all those training exercises?"

"_I_ thought it was because you got some twisted enjoyment out of seeing Rei use my butt for practicing drop kicks," Usagi muttered.

"No, Usagi." Luna sighed. "The training is to help you build up your strength and endurance so you can use your abilities without hurting yourselves. The traditional training period of a Senshi usually started when the girl was thirteen, and she wouldn't be assigned to active duty until her nineteenth birthday." Luna looked at the Senshi with an apologetic expression. "In your cases, though, we didn't have much choice except to accelerate the training as much as possible. If we were back in the Moon Kingdom, none of you girls would have been put through the kind of experiences you've had to endure for at least another two or three years, and you would have taken up your duties with the powers you command now, instead of the ones you had when I first located you."

"It's okay, Luna," Usagi told her feline friend. "We don't blame you for any of it."

"Yeah," Makoto grinned. "We blame the monsters—and then we dust 'em."

"But that doesn't explain why we age," Rei noted.

"It's a precaution built into the power of the transformation," Artemis explained. "The power of the Senshi evolved naturally over the course of thousands of years, but at first, it was just like natural growth, with the powers manifesting very early in a Senshi's childhood and then developing along with the rest of her during adolescence. It could take decades for the powers to grow to fighting strength that way, so the transformation magic was developed to accelerate the process, *and* to give the Senshi a measure of anonymity while they were still young. The henshin wands grant even a very young Senshi the strength to defend herself, without revealing her to the world at large. The enchantments which keep people from recognizing the similarities between your two forms were originally developed to protect a Senshi from being recognized and tracked down by her opponents, but you've seen how useful they are when the secret needs to be kept from society, as well."

"'Thousands of years?'" Ami repeated. "How many, exactly?"

"A lot," Artemis said. "The oldest surviving records in the Moon Kingdom during the Silver Millennium were about ten thousand years old, and they described kingdoms on Earth that were even older. Even we didn't know much about those realms, though, except that they were there once. Paper—or even papyrus— hadn't been invented yet, and writing on stone doesn't work too well when there's a war every other decade and people keep breaking down your walls. Then there was that last Ice Age." He shook his head. "There are—or were—ruins on the Moon, Mars, and some of the moons in the outer system at least fifty thousand years old, but whatever civilization created them was wiped off the face of _this_ planet by a few hundred centuries of ice, long before the Moon Kingdom even got started. And we found something floating in space one time that was definitely artificial, but well over a million years old."

"Excuse me." Setsuna interjected. "'Moon Kingdom?'"

"Oh yeah," Usagi exclaimed. "You don't remember."

"We'd better do something about that right now," Ami decided, "before anything else drops in on us. We might not have the time later."

"Good point," Usagi agreed. She looked at Setsuna. "You may want to make yourself comfortable," she suggested. "This could take a while, and it gets pretty weird at times."

"Weirder than talking cats and people who change clothes in bursts of light?" Setsuna asked, smiling faintly.

"That's just the drip of the iceberg," Minako proclaimed ominously.

"That's 'tip,' Mina-chan," Ami corrected. "Not drip."

"Oh. I knew that."

It only took them about an hour to explain the history of the Moon Kingdom and the adventures of the modern Senshi to Setsuna, and that included a five- minute tongue war between Rei and Usagi. Setsuna, for her part, listened attentively, only interrupting once or twice at particularly confusing parts of the story. Most of the real interruptions came from the Senshi, who constantly disagreed with Usagi's retelling of certain events:

"I did _not_ ambush Mamoru! And it wasn't a serious relationship, anyway!"

"I'm not _that_ much of a klutz! I was just trying to help! And you're a fine one to talk about being clumsy! The cat calling the kettle black!"

"I do _not_ fall in love with every guy that walks past! Just the ones that remind me of my senpai..."

"I am NOT dating Yuuichirou, odango-atama!"

When it was finally over, Setsuna was looking at her face in the mirror again.

"I'm HOW old?"

"Going on two thousand," Artemis replied. "I think. But that's only because you're here, now, in the time stream. You don't age in the in-between place where the Time Gate is. You were born right around the beginning of the Silver Millennium, but you've only spent about twenty or so years in real time. The rest of it, you've been keeping guard on the Gate and watching events in the real world."

"I suppose that would explain where all this information in my head came from," Setsuna mused. "And why I can't remember where I learned any of it." She tried to smile. "At least I'm well-preserved." Then she put the mirror aside and took a deep breath. "So. Assuming for the moment that I'm not going insane and that I believe your story; what happens to me now?"

"Well," Usagi began. The doorbell rang, and the Senshi froze. It rang again after a few seconds, and then a third time. Ami glanced at her friends and then rose slowly. "Mako-chan," Usagi said, "go with her. Just in case."

"Right." The others waited in silence for several minutes, Rei and Minako with their transformation pens in hand, until Ami and Makoto returned, looking rather confused and carrying several pieces of luggage and a black purse between them.

"What's this?" Luna demanded.

"It was just sitting on the doorstep," Ami responded. "There was no one in sight, no footprints in the yard, and no sign of a car or truck. I scanned all of this with my computer twice, and the yard as well. No sign of anything except ordinary luggage."

"And this," Makoto added, pulling a small envelope out as she and Ami set the suitcases down. "It's addressed to you," she said, handing the letter to Setsuna.

It was, too. Just her name, 'Meiou Setsuna,' written across the front in beautiful calligraphy, with the sign of Pluto inscribed beneath. Setsuna turned the envelope over; it was sealed with a circle of red wax, on which another strange symbol had been impressed. It looked like a one-way arrow with two heads, one pointing left, the other right. Not surprisingly, she didn't recognize it. Finally, Setsuna opened the envelope and removed the contents, a letter and a small brass key, which obviously went with the locked luggage. She read the letter carefully for a few moments and then looked up.

"What time is it?" Minako raised her right hand and looked at her watch.

"I have 1:22, but this watch is a bit slow. Why?" Setsuna did not respond, but began reading the letter again, her face going white before she screamed, crumpled the paper into a ball, and threw it as far away as she could. The Senshi looked at her and then at each other. Then Ami recovered the letter, unfolding it carefully and sitting back down on the edge of the bed before beginning to read out loud:

Dear Setsuna, Some of us apologize for what has been done to you. Others do not. Believe us when we say it is not something done on a cruel whim, but as a necessity. The contents of this letter are, likewise, not given as a comfort, but as necessity. Rest assured that the story you have just been told is true, as far as the Senshi know it to be. You _are_ Pluto, the Guardian of Time, and the five girls before you _are_ your friends. You can trust them, even if you do not know them any longer. You will want proof, of course. So be it. You will finish reading this paragraph and ask what time it is. Aino Minako, Sailor Venus, will look at the watch on her right hand and say that it is 1:22, but that her watch is a bit slow. You have just re-read the previous lines, thinking it must be coincidence or a carefully planned trick. It is not. The number you are thinking of is forty-two, and the first thing you thought when you woke up in this room was to wonder whether or not you cried. Mizuno Ami, Sailor Mercury, you are now reading this letter aloud, after Setsuna has crumpled it and thrown it away. You are thinking to yourself that there is a perfectly logical explanation for the contents; you are correct. You are also worrying that Setsuna will suffer a nervous breakdown; this will not happen. Even devoid of her memories, she is strong enough to survive this. The suitcases left on your doorstep contain items for Setsuna, as her stay in your time will be extended. There is nothing supernatural or dangerous about either the luggage itself or any of the contents, except when Usagi drops the medium case on her right foot two weeks from now. Everything was selected based on Setsuna's own tastes and requirements. The driver's license and other identification in her purse are part of the identity she assumed in your previous encounters, and they are in fact quite accurate, so long as you employ a certain degree of fourth-dimensional thinking. And no, Aino Minako, we are NOT providing Setsuna with a car. We are not a rental service. Hino Rei, Sailor Mars, you did not in any way damage Sailor Pluto's staff. It is quite safe, and will remain so until Setsuna is ready to reclaim it. Luna and Artemis, there is no danger to the Time Gate while Setsuna remains in your part of the continuum. WE are guarding it. It will only be used four times in the course of this year, and one of those uses was Sailor Pluto's arrival. You will find out about the second in a few days, and the others in due course. Incidentally, some of us are a little sorry about that crash-landing. Tsukino Usagi, Sailor Moon, Princess and Neo-Queen Serenity, it was nothing personal. We were actually aiming for the bed in Ami's room, but someone thought it might be funny to alter the trajectory at the last second. Take care of Setsuna. You will need her almost as much as she needs you.

Ami lowered the letter.

"Well, of all the nerve!" Usagi huffed indignantly. "As if I'm going to go anywhere near that luggage, now!" She glared at Ami, who was biting back a smile. "What's so funny?"

Ami raised the letter again. "'P.S.: You ARE going to drop the suitcase on your right foot, odango-atama. Get over it.'"

"GIVE ME THAT!" Usagi roared, tearing the letter out of Ami's hands and reading it over. Sure enough, that irritating nickname was there, written in the same flowing hand as the rest of the letter. Somehow, that only made Usagi's teeth grind harder.

"So," Ami asked the others. "Was it accurate?"

"Yes," Rei admitted. "I was worrying about Pluto's staff."

"And I was concerned about the Time Gate," Luna said.

"Same here," Artemis added. "Minako?"

"Never. Mind."

"Sounds like a 'yes' to me," Makoto observed. Minako glared at her, to find Makoto innocently examining her fingernails, apparently indifferent to the world. The glare intensified.

"Who wrote that?" Setsuna demanded in a shaken voice.

"I'd like to know that myself," Usagi muttered darkly, examining the broken seal and the top of the letter, where the same double-arrow symbol was repeated. "Does anyone recognize this sign? Luna? Artemis? Ami-chan?" All three shook their heads.

"Maybe there's something in these suitcases that might help," Rei suggested, tugging the nearest one over. She glanced back at Setsuna. "That is, unless you'd rather not have us going through your things?"

"Actually," Setsuna replied, "I was going to ask you to hand me the purse."

"Good," Rei grinned. "Now where's that key?"

As the letter had suggested, the contents of the suitcases were in no way supernatural. The largest contained several carefully pressed and folded outfits in varying shades of purple or dark green, undergarments—some of which earned Setsuna some VERY curious looks from the younger Senshi—and a mix of more informal clothing which was presided over by one incredibly thrashed old pair of blue jeans. There was even a bathing suit tucked away among everything else, and an umbrella strapped to the outside of the case. Of the three medium-sized pieces, which had been mounted in a wheeled carryall, one contained a couple of hairbrushes, several vials of perfume locked in a protective coffer, various other toiletries, and a pale maroon nightgown; the second piece, a briefcase, held a thick binder, several folders stuffed with loose sheets, a few computer discs, and assorted office supplies. The last of the three cases turned out to be a small sewing machine, one with the contents of an entire sewing kit tucked away in various places. The final, smallest piece of luggage was the carrying case for a laptop.

"Well," Rei said at last, "I'd say whoever sent this stuff wanted to cover all options. And that they know your measurements down to the last stitch." She held up a slim green dress to emphasize the point. "This is really very nice." Rei draped the slightly overlarge dress in front of her own body and smoothed out some of the wrinkles. "I wonder if I could find it a little smaller. And in red. Hmm..."

"Put it away, Rei-chan," Minako teased. "Your grandfather wouldn't let you buy it anyway." Rei frowned, and then sighed, knowing Minako was right. They started re-packing Setsuna's things, but no matter how carefully they folded or repositioned things, they couldn't seem to get it all back in the cases.

Makoto turned to Setsuna while Rei and Minako waged their losing battle with the obstinate luggage.

"Having any better luck with the purse?"

"Hmm?" Setsuna looked up from the tattered jeans. "Did you ask me something?"

"I asked if you found anything useful in the purse."

"License, travel visa, a map of the city, pager, cellphone, a list of numbers and addresses—yours." Setsuna listed off the items. "A few pens and pencils, a calculator, and about five hundred thousand yen." She looked at the ID papers. "Born October 29, 1975, in Taiwan. Single. No next of kin. Japanese, Taiwanese, French, German, Swiss, English, and American citizenship," she added in a slightly surprised voice. "I seem to get around." She looked at the jeans again. "Apparently, these have been with me for most of the trip. Why in the world am I still carrying around something so ratty?" she wondered.

"Can you actually speak all those languages?" Minako said curiously from where she was struggling to zip up a dangerously overloaded suitcase. "I had enough trouble just learning English."

"I think I can," Setsuna replied, running the fingers of her mind through page after page of a half-dozen different languages. She looked at the date and place of her birth again. "This can't be right, though. Not if I'm as old as you say I am."

"The letter said to think fourth-dimensionally," Ami noted. She had, of course, repacked the laptop perfectly on the first try. "You probably really were born on the island we call Taiwan on the twenty-ninth of October, but..."

"...but it was two thousand years ago," Setsuna finished, nodding sadly. "That would make the 'no next of kin' part pretty accurate."

"You've got us," Usagi said, hugging her. "And the Outer Senshi. You know," she went on, "I think we should call them. She did live with Haruka and Michiru for a while when they were looking after Hotaru. They could at least tell her more about herself."

"That's not a bad idea," Rei agreed. "I'm surprised you thought of it. Oh, that's right. Mako-chan suggested it earlier. I should have remembered that."

"Ha ha ha." Usagi stuck out her tongue. "Do any of you know where they are right now?"

"Italy," Ami replied immediately. "I've been keeping track of the concert tour Michiru was asked to perform in. The last part of it went through Rome, and I think the final performance was scheduled for tonight at ten."

"They're probably asleep by now, then," Usagi sighed. "I guess we can call them tomorrow."

"Actually," Ami disagreed, "they've probably just finished dinner."

"Ami, it's almost two in the morning!"

"Here, yes. But they're in Rome, Usagi-chan. We're eight hours ahead of them."

"Huh?"

"You studied geography last term," Luna growled slowly. "Do you remember things called 'time zones?'"

"Are you getting silly in your old age, Luna? What does geography have to do with time?" Luna hung her head.

"Just call them, Usagi."

"If you say so." Usagi found her communicator. As the device sent out its signal, she grinned at her friends. "It's a good thing we don't have to use the phones, isn't it?"

***MILLENNIALS***

Haruka slid the door to Hotaru's room open slightly, looking in on the girl while she caught up on her sleep so she could attend tonight's concert. Haruka doubted that Hotaru really cared for orchestra all that much, but it was a chance to see Michiru on stage, and it would have taken something on the scale of a world war to make the youngest Senshi miss that.

*Hard to believe,* Haruka thought, closing the door with a slightly sad smile. *A little over a year ago, we were ready to kill this little angel, and now she's become the most important thing in our lives. I guess Setsuna and Usagi were right.*

She sighed and walked softly down the hall to avoid waking Hotaru. Haruka wasn't really that much older than Hotaru, but there was something almost perpetually childlike about the little Senshi. Maybe it was her small size, or the pet names 'papa' and 'mama' she customarily tacked on when addressing Haruka and Michiru; regardless, Haruka felt more like a parent than an older sister, and she was fairly certain that Michiru—who was in the shower now, getting ready to get ready for this last concert—felt the same way.

Oddly enough, Haruka found that she didn't mind feeling older than she was. The presence of the sweet little Hotaru had slowly taught her to understand what it really meant to be a Senshi, a caring protector of human life against all odds, rather than the cold, watchful guardian she had been before, ready to sacrifice almost any individual to protect the greater whole.

Before being entrusted with the care of a supernaturally reborn infant, Haruka had only really understood three kinds of love. One was the bond of souls she shared with Michiru, a love far too intense and private to be applied to anyone else; the second was the love for humanity which allowed her to carry out even the most difficult of her duties as Uranus, a thing too generalized to enable her to connect with her charges as individuals; the last was her personal passion for racing cars, unquestioning things of steel and plastic and fuel, with no emotions of their own to confuse her.

None of these helped her to understand how the Inner Senshi—in particular, Usagi—could be so willing to risk their lives and everything they fought for to save one life, often a life they knew only distantly, if at all. But after having looked after a quiet, dark-eyed infant, after having experienced moments of sheer, terrified panic to protect that child from the dangers of the world, be they mundane or mystical...

Everyone was someone's son or daughter; everyone had been a child, once. And everyone had someone, somewhere, who would feel that same icy fear if they were in danger, who would grieve when they were lost. Knowing that, knowing _Hotaru,_ had allowed Haruka to begin to appreciate and understand the real importance of her duties.

In the kitchen of their suite, the noise of the shower was a little louder, and Haruka chuckled to herself, thankful that Michiru didn't have the time for one of her insanely long baths. Haruka wasn't sure if it was a personal quirk about cleanliness or just Michiru's affinity for water, but she could soak in a tub for hours on end with perfect contentment, and somehow manage to not have her skin prune up in the process. The only reason she wasn't enjoying one of those hours-long immersions was because she needed to prepare and practice before the concert.

*Well, she can come back after the concert and soak for a week if she wants. Or she can sleep. Or do both. I might even join her.* The last few months had been hectic, and it was good to know that they could go home soon. Haruka didn't begrudge Michiru getting recognition for her talent with the violin, but being dragged halfway around the world for close to six months was just too much. The fans in particular could be a pain; high-class concert-goers were better-dressed and certainly far more polite and refined than the screaming teenage fans who mobbed pop stars, but they could be every bit as annoying. And the bloodsucking reporters... ugh.

On cue, the phone rang.

*That'll be one of the bloodsucking reporters now,* Haruka thought, *trying to get an interview. Or maybe another one of Michiru's star-struck admirers with a wedding proposal. What does that make now, five?* She chuckled again.

"Hello?" There was no one on the line, just a dial tone. And when the ringing went off again, Haruka realized that she recognized the sound. *I must be getting old,* she thought in embarrassment, hanging up the receiver and hunting around the room for her communicator, which continued to beep. By about the fifteenth time, she finally found the thing tucked in the inside pocket of the suit she'd be wearing tonight. *Right where I left it, of course. First place you think of is always the last place you look.* "Hello?"

"Haruka? Is that you?"

"No," she replied flippantly, "it's Mimete. Of course it's me, Usagi. What are you calling about?"

"Well, Happy New Year's, for one thing." Usagi's face grinned.

"You're six hours early, kid, but thanks. I'll pass that on to the others. Now was there something else?"

"Actually... yes. Um... we're at Ami's. We were having a New Year's Eve party of our own and, well... Pluto fell through the ceiling."

"Why is Setsuna there? What do you mean, 'fell through the ceiling?'"

"One of those portals opened up in the ceiling, and she fell out. We're not sure why she's here, though. You see, she's sort of lost her memory."

"What?" Usagi quickly summed up the night's events. When she got to a description of the mysterious letter, Haruka vaguely remembered the old wisdom about being careful what you wished for.

"All right," she said at last, interrupting Usagi's flow of chatter. *That girl can talk forever. She's going to make a good politician.* "Let me get this straight. Setsuna's in Tokyo. None of you have any idea how she got there. She's lost her memory. And someone or something which can predict the future sent her a letter."

"And a half-dozen suitcases," Usagi added. "When do you think you'll be able to get back?"

"I'm not sure," Haruka admitted, running one frustrated hand through her hair. "Michiru's last performance is tonight, but we can't just up and disappear immediately afterwards without everyone wondering about it. We've got plane tickets reserved for the eighth, but with all the people who travel at this time of year, there could be any number of delays. And that's not even considering what the panic over this Y2K foolishness could cause."

"Yeah, we caught some of that over here. Most of the phone lines are out for no apparent reason." Usagi sighed. "A week or more, then? All right. I guess there's nothing we can do about it." Her head turned away from the communicator. "Did you want to...? No? Okay."

"Who was that?"

"Setsuna. She said she'd rather talk to you in person when you get back."

"Will she be staying at the house?"

"No," Usagi replied firmly. "That place is empty without the three of you, and we're not taking the chance that something which knows about her memory loss might try to catch her by herself. We're going to find some place where she won't be alone."

"Nice to see you can think straight," Haruka applauded. "There might be hope for you after all."

"I'm so glad you approve. We'll be in touch, Haruka." Haruka sighed after the signal ended.

"I've got to learn to keep my mouth shut."

***MILLENNIALS***

"Well, _that_ was a lot of help."

"Don't get snippy, Rei," Usagi asserted defensively. "It was a good idea. It's nobody's fault that they can't do anything to help until they get home, is it?"

"No," Rei admitted.

"Glad to hear it. Now," Usagi continued, turning to Setsuna, "we need to figure out where you're going to stay."

"There's plenty of room here for all of us," Ami said. "At least for tonight. But I think mother might start asking questions about a long-term houseguest, and I'm not really very good at lying to her."

"I think we can rule out hotels," Minako noted. "They'll all be booked solid with tourists and conventions for the next two weeks at least."

"What about if she stays with me?" Makoto suggested. "I've got room, and since I live alone, there wouldn't be anyone to ask questions. Or she could stay at the temple with Rei."

"We have school," Ami reminded her. "The whole idea is to find Setsuna a place where she won't be alone."

"But not too un-alone, either," Rei added. "I don't think I trust Grandpa to behave himself when I'm at school." *Or Yuuichirou,* she thought.

"Good point," Makoto admitted.

"That probably rules out my place, too," Minako sighed. "Nobody except Artemis is home during the day, and mother would make an absolute pest of herself the rest of the time."

"Too bad we can't just take you to school with us," Usagi joked.

"I think I might be a little too old for that," Setsuna replied.

"Hang on," Usagi said suddenly. "That might actually work. Luna, do you happen to remember where I put that transformation pen?"

"It's in the drawer in your nightstand," Luna told her. "I can see where you're going with this, Usagi. It's a good idea, but it won't work."

"Why not? Setsuna can use the pen, can't she?"

"Anyone can use the pen, but that's not the point. It's only meant to operate for short periods of time. It can go as long as eight hours in a pinch, but Setsuna would have to stay transformed almost around the clock. The pen would burn itself out after a few days of that."

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"You never asked." Luna glanced at the clock. "Look, it's getting late, and we'd all be able to think clearer if we got some sleep."

"Most of us would," Rei muttered, poking Usagi's leg.

"I'll ignore that. All in favor of crashing for the night?" Usagi asked. The show of hands was universal. "Okay. Next order of business; who gets the bed?"

***MILLENNIALS***

The room where the six telecommunications workers hung, suspended in coils of a material that looked partly alive and partly mechanical, was dark now. Many of the lights had been shattered when the entity that had invaded the computers had reacted to stop the workers from escaping to spread word of its presence, and most of those that were left were either too far apart or too heavily hidden behind the network of wires to provide any real illumination.

But that was all right.

The entity did not need light to see. It didn't need to see at all. That wasn't its purpose. The five men and one woman hung unmoving in the entity's snares. They were alive, but not out of any sense of mercy or cruelty on the part of their captor. As with the being's indifference to light and vision, random killing was not its purpose. Its purpose was to seek, to remain hidden, to learn. To find.

Infecting the computers had been an unconscious sort of action. The entity did not understand machines, nor did it misunderstand them. Again, understanding had not been deemed necessary to its purpose. It had ability, and a certain degree of awareness with which to guide that ability, and certain rules to guide the awareness, but that was all. The rules said to find. The awareness said that the phone network, extending as it did throughout much of the city, was an ideal means of finding. The ability fused the entity with the computers controlling that network, slowly spreading its awareness out into Tokyo, allowing it to seek out the traces of its quarry.

When the awareness realized it had been discovered, the rules told it to stop those who knew, but not to reveal itself in doing so. So it held them. The awareness then used its ability to do something to the computers, creating a false record on the surveillance videos so no one would come looking for the missing workers in that room, at least not for some time. Then it returned to its search.

There. The awareness extended itself in a certain direction. There were traces of the quarry in that direction. It had been there, and recently. The entity's ability did something else, sending a signal. Another would be dispatched now, to scout and, if possible, capture. If it succeeded, the entity's job would be finished. If not, it would continue to seek for as long as necessary. It would call others to scout, to capture, to divert, to destroy. It would seek and call until either it was found and destroyed, or its quarry was.

That was its purpose.

It would not fail.

***MILLENNIALS***

The Senshi had insisted that, given her condition, Usagi take AmiÆs bed, and she was smart enough not to argue about a good thing when she got it. The others gave Setsuna the largest couch, then staked claims to the others; Rei ended up getting the floor.

Usagi had to pester her about that, of course, and she did so right up until the point where she came back from the washroom, to find Rei setting out a makeshift mattress of pillows on the floor in Ami's room.

"What are you doing?" Usagi asked.

"What does it look like, odango-atama?"

"I meant, why are you in here?"

"It's my night to keep an eye on you," Rei said. "Get used to it."

"But you snore!"

"I do not!"

"You do too!"

"No, I don't! And who are you to talk about snoring, anyway? You sound like a rusty chainsaw in a lumber mill!"

"I do not snore!"

"I've been listening to it every other night for the last four months!"

"I've been listening to it nightly for the last three years," Luna muttered.

"You stay out of this, Luna!"

"Both of you, KNOCK IT OFF!" Makoto yelled from down the hall. Rei and Usagi glared in Makoto's general direction, stuck out their tongues at her, then tried to go to sleep.

"Pain in the butt," Rei muttered as she settled down.

"Brat," Usagi retorted drowsily.

"Crybaby."

"Wallflower."

"Cow."

"Brat."

"You said that already."

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"SHUT UP!" Makoto hollered. Usagi grumbled, rolled over so her back was to Rei, and tried to go to sleep. In the living room downstairs, Setsuna looked over at Ami.

"Are they always like this?"

"Perpetually." She smiled. "I wouldn't change them for the world." Ami closed her eyes. She opened them again a moment later when something crashed upstairs. "Well, maybe a little," she amended.

"Artemis!" Minako shouted from the den.

"Sorry! It's dark up here!"

"You're a cat!"

"He's a klutz," Luna said from Ami's room.

"I heard that, Luna!"

"QUIET!" Makoto roared. Downstairs, Setsuna tried to keep from laughing.

"There's one good thing," she observed to Ami.

"And that is?"

"If I'm going crazy, at least I'm in the right company for it." They both started giggling. It was the first real laugh Setsuna could remember. It was... good, and she felt much better for it. Ami looked at her curiously.

"How do you feel? About all of this, I mean."

"Scared," Setsuna admitted. "And confused. So much of this doesn't make any sense, and the idea that I'm supposed to be some sort of mystical superhero..."

"It's a lot to take in, I know. We all had to go through it, but then, none of us had amnesia at the time. I'm surprised you're holding up so well."

"Didn't you read the letter?" Setsuna tried to laugh. "I may be scared out of my wits, but I'm not going to have a complete nervous breakdown. Even as much as I might want to."

"We'll all be here for you, you know."

"I know." The frustrated fear that had been lurking in the back of her emptied mind was still there, but between the laughter and the sense of knowing that at least she was not alone, Setsuna could fight it off, now, maybe even enough to sleep. "Good night, Ami. And... thank you." Ami smiled.

"Good night, Setsuna."

Then something exploded.

"USAGI!"

"ARTEMIS!"

"It wasn't me!"

"It wasn't me either!"

Then they heard screams. From outside.

Downstairs, Ami and Setsuna got up from their respective couches and ran to the window. In Ami's room, Usagi, Rei, and Luna pressed against each other in their attempts to see outside. In the den, Minako was halfway off her couch and headed for the door while Makoto buried her head under her pillow and began swearing slow, painful retribution on whoever was responsible for this.

Outside, a car was burning. The house directly across the street had a lot of lights on for so late at night—or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it. After a moment of observation, the Senshi realized that there was only one light in that house, a sickly tinge of green, and it was moving.

Someone ran out through the front door—literally, since the door itself hung from the frame in splinters. Ami recognized Mr. and Mrs. Kiseru, the owners of the house. She didn't know them all that well, but she didn't think that running around in the snow in their nightclothes at two in the morning was something they'd be interested in. At least, not without a pretty good reason.

The reason exploded out through the wall of the house, sending the Kiserus flying in a shower of debris and kicked-up snow. It was neither pretty nor good; it was big, ugly, and obviously unfriendly. It looked a bit like a huge, mobile mass of stringy green fungus compressed into a vaguely human shape, but there were also bits and pieces of metal and plastic sticking out from its body. At this distance, none of the watching Senshi could tell what those bits and pieces might be. The thing was also glowing a bright green.

"Stay here," Ami and Rei said at the same time. Upstairs, Usagi pouted but did as she was told; in the living room, Setsuna just stared at the creature outside and nodded dumbly. So much for feeling better.

Ami ran into Minako and Rei on the stairs.

"Wrong way, Ami-chan!"

"We're not using the front door," Ami replied. "Somebody might see us. We can go out by the balcony off the den."

"Okay," Minako said. "About time!" She turned sharply in a vaguely military manner.

"It's 'face,' not time," Rei muttered, following her back up the stairs.

"There might be a physics equation in there," Ami remarked. "You know, face and time?" Rei groaned.

"Don't _you_ start."

The three Senshi trooped into the den, transforming as they crossed the room. Mercury went for the door while Venus and Mars tried to get Makoto up.

"Go away," she growled.

"No can do," Venus replied. "Up and at 'em, girl. We've got a monster to mash."

"Have fun. I'm trying to sleep."

"Come on, Mako-chan," Mars insisted. "We have a job to do."

"You can take that job, and shitthat'scold!" Mercury had finally gotten the door open, letting an icy gust of winter into the den. Makoto was on her feet and then behind the couch in a flash of green flannel and fluffy blankets. "Close the door!"

"Just hurry up and transform," Venus ordered her. "We're wearing less than you are, and you don't see _me_ complaining about the cold, do you?" She prayed that Makoto didn't notice the faint chatter of her teeth. Whatever magical backups this transformation had been given with regards to environment, a miniskirt was still not the best thing to wear in the middle of winter.

Her prayer was answered, it seemed. It took some doing for Makoto to find her transformation pen among all the blankets she was carrying, but a moment later, Jupiter joined her friends as they stepped out onto the balcony.

"Okay," Mercury said as they leapt up to the roof and surveyed the situation. The creature was standing a short distance away from the two humans, its green glow reduced to a few fast-fading sparkles, the misshapen head turning about slowly as if it were trying to find something. "Venus, Mars, you attack and draw that thing away from the Kiserus. Don't get too close, but keep its attention on you. Jupiter, you get Mr. Kiseru; I'll get his wife."

"Right," the others responded. Mars and Venus lifted off, touching down a short distance from the green creature.

"Hey, stringbean!" The ugly head turned around. "Yeah you, the walking fungus farm! Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to... whoa!" Venus cut off her speech in a hurry as something—two somethings, actually—thin and glowing shot out of a metal object lodged in the creature's right shoulder. The projectiles sailed past both her and Mars to sink deep into a snowbank, sending up a hissing cloud of steam and melting half of the piled snow in a matter of seconds.

"You want to play rough?" Mars asked. "Fine by me. Mars Flame Sniper!"

The fiery arrow took the creature straight in the head, knocking it over backwards into the snow. Beyond the toppling green goon, Mars could see that Jupiter and Mercury had already gotten the two homeowners out of harm's way.

"It's toast," Venus reported from somewhere behind Mars.

"Not entirely," Mars disagreed, watching the creature twitch in the snow. "It's not going anywhere just yet, but I think it's still got some fight left in it."

"Not that," Venus told her, coming up from the melted snowbank with something in her hand. "Those things it shot at us were pieces of toast!"

"Toast? As in, twice-baked bread, peanut butter and jelly, the only thing Usagi ever seems to eat for breakfast? That kind of toast?"

"Burnt to a crisp," Venus affirmed, holding up a charred slice of what was indeed toast, black as coal, still steaming after its impact in the snow.

"That gets my vote for weirdest attack of the year," Mars muttered, turning back to the rising monster. Now that she could see it more closely, the metal thing in the creature's arm was easily identifiable as a garden-variety two-slice toaster. There were a lot of household appliances wedged into the shifting organic mass that made up the rest of this unusual enemy's body. Mars could identify a blender and an electric eggbeater on the end of the left arm, and a microwave in the thing's belly. Then the toaster fired again, and she and Venus had to step out of the way of the deadly, edible barrage.

"SUPREME THUNDER!"

The creature half-turned before staggering under the electric assault. It fired off another volley of toast, missing completely as Jupiter and Mercury leapt over and around to rejoin their friends.

"That wasn't what I think it was, was it?" Jupiter asked.

"Nuclear toast," Venus confirmed. "Or something like that. Mercury, what _is_ this thing?"

"I don't know," Mercury admitted, calling up her visor. "Its organic composition is very strange, but it doesn't seem to have any of the usual negative energies. It doesn't have much of anything, for that matter, not even in the way of a brain, and what it does have appears to be... decentralized. No major internal organs, no obvious controlling mechanism like the Black Moon droids; it's all spread out over the entire body."

"Which means we have to take out most of or all of the body to stop it, right?"

"I think so."

"Then I've got something it should like," Jupiter grinned. "Interrupt MY sleep, will you? SPARKLING WIDE PRESSURE!" And she let the attack fly.

The creature watched the crackling energy sizzle its way through the air. Right before impact, the door of the microwave imbedded in the thing's chest popped open; Jupiter's attack hissed straight into the cavity beyond, and the door swung shut behind it. There was a bright flare, and lights on the appliances all over the thing's body lit up. It raised its left hand towards the Senshi, the blades in the base of the blender whirring madly before a huge funnel of wind leapt out from the glass, throwing snow and four girls in miniskirts halfway down the street.

Jupiter looked up at the others from the remains of the snowman that had broken her fall.

"Right. Electrical appliances. Silly me." She glanced over at Venus. "Your turn."

"Let me think, let me think. Something to hit the whole body... Okay. VENUS LOVE AND BEAUTY SHOCK!"

The eggbeaters beneath the blender started up as the attack got near. The creature plunged its hand directly into the energy, and Venus watched in dismay as the spinning metal dispersed her attack into a hundred separate pieces, none of which went anywhere near the monster itself.

"BURNING MANDALA!"

The blender began whirring again, and the blazing rings vanished in a veritable blizzard.

"SHINE AQUA ILLUSION!"

The toaster unloaded a rapid-fire barrage of white-hot bread, boiling away the geyser of sub-zero liquid in mid-flight.

"Hoookay," Venus said. "The usual stuff doesn't seem to be working."

"I almost wish we'd let Usagi transform," Rei admitted. "She's a ditz and a half, but she's probably stronger than any two of us put together."

"We'd better figure out how to stop this thing quick," Mercury replied, "or you may get your wish." She pointed at the living room window, where Usagi had joined Setsuna to watch the battle's progress, or the lack thereof. The expression on Usagi's face clearly said that she wasn't liking what she was seeing, and pregnant or not, she wasn't going to sit by and let her friends get trounced by someone's reject science experiment for much longer.

The Senshi weren't the only ones who looked where Mercury was pointing. The creature's head twisted around as well, and a large, high-wattage lightbulb fused into the back of its head lit up immediately. The rest of the body swung around, and energy began to build up in front of the toaster.

Inside the living room, Setsuna and Usagi stared apprehensively at that growing green glow. The idea of being shot at by a toaster would have been laughable, except that this was not your everyday breakfast appliance. This was an Evil Toaster, an Appliance of Death, and right now, it was looking very scary indeed.

"No!" Mercury shouted. "MERCURY AQUA..."

Too late. With an earsplitting roar, the toaster disgorged a green surge nearly as tall as the entity it was attached to, driving the stringy mass backwards through the snow from the sheer force of the blast. A wall of roiling energy ploughed through the air towards the window, lighting up the sky as clear as the sun at noon.

In the moment between the thunderous firing of the attack and its impact with the window, something clicked in Setsuna's head. She turned, lifted Usagi, and jumped to one side as hard as she could. They had just barely cleared the edge of the window when the entire frame and a goodly chunk of the wall it was attached to blew apart.

Usagi screamed.

"Venus." Mercury spoke in a flat voice that felt colder than the snow. In the wake of the severe damage just inflicted on her grandparentsÆ house, her face was expressionless, her right hand clenched into a quivering fist.

"Y-yes?"

"We need to coordinate to stop this thing. Use your Beam Shower and aim for the weapons; I'll do the same with my Aqua Rhapsody." She glanced at Mars and Jupiter. "After we've busted its weapons, you two follow up. Mars, your Flame Sniper seemed to hurt it before, so use it again. Jupiter, use your Thunder Dragon so it can't harness the energy like last time."

"Right," Jupiter agreed quickly. Mars nodded in silence, breathing a sigh of relief when Mercury's eyes turned back to their enemy. Explosive anger was something Mars could deal with, but Mercury's icy rage scared her.

"Go," Mercury said flatly. *My house.* "MERCURY..." *My friends.* "...AQUA..." *Damn you.* "...RHAPSODY!"

"CRESCENT BEAM SHOWER!"

The entity turned as what looked like half a hundred glowing jets of molten gold streaked towards it. Its shoulder weapon responded with the same rapid-fire technique it had used to dispel Mercury's Aqua Illusion, but as the water boiled off, the energy beams Venus had launched continued on. The creature didn't have enough time to launch a second counterattack as the beams drove home, shattering bits and pieces of its conglomerate body. The toaster crumpled in on itself and exploded; the blender shattered; the lightbulb on its head burst; the door of the microwave cracked.

"MARS FLAME SNIPER!"

"SUPREME THUNDER DRAGON!"

The creature, still staggering from the first wave, flew backwards as Mars sent a second burning arrow into its head. It fell to a hand and one knee, looking up as the incandescent mass of the dragon approached, far too large and generalized an energy source for it to absorb. In a desperate move, the entity raised its last functioning weapon, the eggbeater.

Big mistake.

The dragon funneled straight into the metal of the appliance and vanished. The remaining lights on the creature's body flared, and for a moment, it looked as if it had successfully absorbed this attack as well. Then the entire stringy green mass exploded outwards on a wall of lightning.

***MILLENNIALS***

Elsewhere, the entity infesting the phone company computers calmly noted the destruction of its counterpart. Its response was to send out a signal, different than the one which had summoned its ill-fated ally. The loss of the scout was not a possibility that had been included in the watcher's simple guidelines; it would need new orders before it knew how to proceed.

The orders were not long in arriving.

The scout had successfully located the quarry, but had been destroyed before it could secure the target. Additional individual scouts would likely only be destroyed as well, and neither was sending a group an option, for by the time such a force could be raised, the quarry would no longer be in the area where it had been detected. Finding the quarry in the future would require a different means than those the watcher had employed before, a means that, as yet, did not exist.

Therefore, the new order was to create observation centers throughout the city. Once prepared, a scout would be called to each. Whatever force had destroyed the first scout would undoubtedly respond to the appearance of others. The watcher's task was to observe and transmit all possible data on this hostile force to assist in the formulation of new plans.

The new rules were in place. The awareness studied them. Its ability set to work.

***MILLENNIALS***

Mercury watched impassively as the electrified fragments of the destroyed creature fell before leading the others back inside. She used the door. She was really just too angry to care if anyone noticed later that the Senshi had gone inside and not come out.

The picture window, part of the wall, the living room, and everything in it had been pulverized. The glass that had made up the window was now a layer of fine, dusty powder along the floor and far wall, and the furniture had been blown into mulch and a blizzard of tiny fabric strands. The plaster walls and ceiling were cracked, the floor gouged deeply in the middle of the room where the beam had smashed forward. Anything even remotely breakable was broken, leaving behind only a few bits of disjointed metal, bent and twisted out of their original shapes.

The path of destruction continued right through the length of the house, a trail of annihilated rooms which ended with an outward-bulging hole in the opposite wall. Nor was the damage confined to that part of the house; just about everything made of glass was cracked or completely shattered as a result of the deafening explosion.

*Mother is not going to be amused,* Mercury thought with a sick feeling in her stomach. The things sheÆd hidden away in the basement to keep safe from Usagi might still be all right, but that hadnÆt saved any number of other keepsakes. She resolved that when the Senshi finally tracked down whatever had sent that thing, she was going to let it know just how unhappy she was by cutting the cost of those items and the repairs of the house out of whatever it had in the way of a hide. Slowly. And close to the bone.

Usagi and Setsuna were leaning against the wall before the stairs, both of them lightly dusted with the aftermath of the blast. All thoughts of practicing her vivisection skills vanished as Mercury saw them.

"Hi guys," Usagi greeted her friends wearily. "Having fun without me?"

"Very funny, odango-atama," Mars growled, detransforming and kneeling beside her friend. The look on her face made it hard to tell whether Rei wanted to hug Usagi or hit her. Knowing Rei, she would probably settle for doing both.

"It depends on your definition of fun," Venus replied, stretching slowly with both hands on the small of her back. "Getting thrown through a snowbank in the middle of winter wearing _this_-" she indicated her dripping fuku with a wave "-is not my idea of a good time." Venus frowned at the puddle growing on the floor and shimmered back into Minako.

"Better?" Usagi asked.

"It's a start. At least I'm dry, now. How about you two?"

"I'm okay. Dusty and a bit bruised, but nothing a bath and a good night's sleep won't fix." Usagi glanced at Setsuna. "But I think Mercury should take a look at Setsuna."

"I'm fine," Setsuna disagreed, shifting with a pained expression.

"I'll be the judge of that," Mercury told her, recalling her visor. "There's a lot of bruising along your back and right side. How did that happen?"

"Setsuna grabbed me and jumped us both clear right before that thing blew up the living room," Usagi explained. "She was between me and the blast, and I think she caught the tip of it. How bad is it?"

"Just a minute." Mercury pressed gently against Setsuna's right shoulder, and the older girl winced. "Sorry," Mercury apologized. Setsuna smiled weakly.

"Do that again," she said in a voice that would have been menacing if it were stronger, "and I'll give you what I gave your mirror." She almost laughed, then breathed sharply.

"Not with that arm," Mercury told her. "Your right shoulder's broken, and two of your ribs on that side are pretty close to joining it. Nothing else internal seems to be damaged, but you've got a mild concussion right back here." Her fingers brushed very lightly against the lower right side of Setsuna's skull.

"Just what I need," Setsuna remarked wryly. "One more blow to the head."

"Actually," Mercury said thoughtfully, "this might work in our favor."

"What do you mean?" Jupiter asked.

"I'll explain it later," Mercury replied, reverting to her normal self. Ami looked absolutely wrecked. "For now, we'd better see if the phones are working. Setsuna needs to get to a hospital, and I think we should send Usagi- chan along for a quick examination, too."

"Hey! I'm not the one who got hit by..."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Ami told Usagi with a direct look at her belly.

"Oh."

"I'll try the phone upstairs," Makoto said as Jupiter vanished in a cloud of energy.

"And I'll see if Setsuna's cellular has any better luck," Minako added, following her up the stairs.

"Are you thinking what I think you are?" Rei asked Ami. "About Setsuna, I mean."

"It gives us an excuse that might actually work," Ami replied, sitting down to Setsuna's right with a tired sigh.

"Long night, huh?" Usagi yawned.

"And a busy one," Rei added.

"If it's any help," Setsuna said, "next time something like this happens, I'll try to drop in on you at a more reasonable hour."

"'Next' time?" Ami asked. They all laughed softly, stopping when they heard tires squealing out on the street. Ami frowned as a car door slammed shut and footsteps came up the front steps. "I hope that's not who I think..."

The door swung open to reveal Mrs. Mizuno, still wearing that killer dress. She looked at the four young ladies sitting by the stairs in their nightclothes, the massive hole in the front wall of her family's house, the tunnel of obliteration that had been a living room and several other rooms besides, and then back at her daughter. She did not speak, but the expression on her face said plenty.

"You'd better say something fast," Usagi whispered under her breath.

For once, though, Ami's command of the language deserted her, and the greeting she stammered out could have been one Usagi would have used.

"Um... hi, Mom. How was the rest of the party?"

***SAILOR SAYS***

**Makoto**: Ami-chan's a bit busy with her mother right now, but she left some notes, so I guess I get to fill in for her. Today, we learned that...

_(Usagi pops up in front of her)_

**Usagi**: I know! I know! Ooh, ooh, ooh! Me! Pick me! _(Waves her hand around like she was in class, then gets up and recites)_ 'Never stand in front of a loaded toaster.'

**Makoto** (sweatdrops): Um... well, I guess we _did_ sort of learn that... _(Thinks to herself: Man, now I know how Haruna-sensei must have felt...) _

**Rei** _(leaning in from screen left)_: That sounds suspiciously like something Mina-chan would have said, odango-atama. Have you been stealing her lines?

**Minako** _(leaning in from screen right)_: Excuse me? _(Best DeNiro voice)_ Are you talking about me?

**Rei**: Never mind.

**Usagi** _(pushing both of them out of her way)_: Get out of here, you two. This is MY segment, remember?

_(Rei pushes back on screen)_

**Rei**: Since when is it just your segment? It's called 'Sailor Says,' not 'Usagi Says' or 'Sailor Moon Says' or 'Odango-Atama Says.'

_(Minako pushes back on screen as well)_

**Minako**: Yeah, since when? You know what they say: 'Cher and Sharon Stone.' _(The others look at her) _

**Artemis**_ (poking his head down from the top of the screen)_: I'm fluent in Minakorisms. Allow me to translate: 'Share and share alike.'

**Minako**: Get out of here, Artemis! _(Kicks him into Usagi's face)_ Oops.

**Usagi**: Ouch! That hurt!

**Artemis** _(weakly)_: No kidding.

**Usagi**: Take this, traitor! _(Throws Artemis back at Minako, hitting Rei instead)_

**Rei**: Ouch! Why, you little... _(Jumps Usagi in one of those little dust-ups. Minako gets dragged in, and a lot of unprintables start shooting out. Someone's hand takes hold of the camera and slides it to the left, revealing Makoto again.) _

**Makoto**: Okay. What we _really_ learned today was that hosting a slumber party for the Senshi is almost guaranteed to get your house demolished. _(Looks at the card)_ Not much of a moral, Ami-chan...

_(Ami pops up)_

**Ami**: Sorry, but what did you expect? My house got gutted, for Kami's sake!

**Mrs. Mizuno** _(voice only)_: Ami! Get back here!

**Ami** _(blanching)_: Oh, dear. Coming, Mother! _(She slides back off screen, leaving Makoto to shake her head and wonder) _

_(Chibi Daniel Jackson wanders on screen)_

**Chibi Jackson** _(speaking in English)_: Excuse me, but could you tell me where the nearest Stargate is?

**Makoto**: Um, sorry, my English isn't very good. _(Thinks to herself: He's kinda cute. Looks a little like my senpai...) _

**Chibi Jackson** _(switching to Japanese)_: Sorry. I asked if you could direct me to the nearest Stargate.

**Makoto**: I'm not sure I know what that is. _(Latches on to his arm) _Maybe you could explain it to me? _(Bats her eyelashes) _

**Chibi Jackson** _(sweatdrops)_: Uh...

_(Usagi sticks her head on screen)_

**Usagi**: What are YOU still doing here? I thought I got rid of you and the rest last time!

**Makoto**: Shut up, odango-atama. _(Extends a foot and kicks Usagi off screen)_ Now, where were we? _(Smiles at Chibi Jackson right before Agumon appears)_ Aaaahh! What's that!

**Agumon**: I think I'm lost. Did either of you see a boy with goggles and goofy hair around here?

**Makoto** _(from behind Chibi Jackson)_: A talking... lizard?

_(Usagi pops up again)_

**Usagi**: All right, who's letting you interlopers in here?

_(Cut to a shot of the writer standing next to the stage door. He blinks and grins weakly when he realizes Usagi is looking at him.)_

**the Judge**: Er... hi.

**Usagi** _(ominously)_: We need to talk.

**the Judge** _(sweating)_: Uh, yeah. Um... look over there! _(As soon as Usagi's head is turned, dives out the door and slams it shut behind him) _

**Usagi**: Hey! _(Hammering on the door)_ Get back here!

05/01/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Now that I've dodged the wrath of the Rabbit of the Moon for another day...

Some of you may be wondering if I'm going to do a day-by-day, play-by-play for the entire year. Believe me, I'm not. I can compress time and space when I have to; the only reason New Year's got two whole episodes is because it's fairly important. Time should skip ahead a little quicker next time.

Speaking of next time, expect to see:  
-More appliance-wielding fungus creatures.  
-A few more threads from the web the Court has woven around Setsuna.  
-And a few surprises—which probably won't be THAT surprising.

This installment should have been up sooner than it was, but with the holidays and everything... well, you know how it is.

Until next time, then.


	3. Chapter 3

Shigeru danced unsteadily down the street, a half-empty bottle in one hand and an off-key tune on his lips.

It was either very early or very late—he couldn't really remember which. He couldn't really remember much of anything over the last few hours, except a general sense of celebration, lots of cheering, and several rounds of drinks. He did remember getting kissed by a number of very pretty ladies he was pretty sure he had never met before, and he vaguely recalled carrying on an animated conversation with a potted plant, but most of the rest of the evening was a blur.

All in all, it had been a wonderful New Year's Eve.

The party had been somewhere between the 'going strong' and 'beginning to wind down' stages when Shigeru had left, remembering that he had to open up at work the next day, and reasoning in that fuzzy, alcohol-inspired way that the sooner he opened for business, the sooner he could close and go home.

Which is why 4:39 in the morning found him fiddling with the key to his place of business, the Cafe Mocha.

And why, when he saw the general mess waiting for him, Shigeru dismissed the broken cups and spilled foodstuffs as just another mess to clean up, and the coiling growths of strange, green fungus as one more urban pest to combat.

And why, when the alien substance lashed out for him, Shigeru never even bothered to shout. He vanished through the glass door of the cafe without a sound, leaving the door ajar with the keys still in place, the half-empty bottle falling from his hand to shatter and spill its contents on the cold concrete.

A short time later, more tendrils emerged from the darkened cafe, sweeping up the broken glass and absorbing the spilled alcohol before withdrawing. The last fungoid appendage deftly removed the keys from the lock and closed the door behind it as it pulled back. Another moment passed, and the sign hanging inside the door was repositioned to read "Come In, We're OPEN."

After all, when one is serving bait, presentation IS everything.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Tadaima!" Usagi stood half-in, half-out of the doorway, waiting for a response while Luna slipped past her and into the house. After a moment, she added, "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"I'm in the kitchen, dear. Try to keep the noise down; your father's upstairs sleeping off last night."

"Oh." Usagi moved aside to let Rei follow her inside. They were in the middle of kicking off their snow-rimmed boots when Usagi realized that she had been in the house for nearly a minute without seeing so much as a drop of annoyance from her squirt brother's squirt gun arsenal. "Where's Shingo?"

"He went to Mika's after lunch," Ikuko replied, stepping out of the kitchen with a towel and dish in her hands. "Hello, Rei-chan."

"Ma'am," Rei said with a polite, nervous nod. *This stupid idea of yours had better work, odango-atama!*

"So," Ikuko continued, "how many different New Year's celebrations did you girls see last night?"

"We had a couple of unexpected guests," Usagi said, "so we didn't get much further than Tokyo."

"Anyone I know?"

"Do you remember Meiou Setsuna?" Ikuko paused in the middle of her dish-drying, frowning slightly.

"I seem to recall... wasn't she the young lady with dark hair and eyes? A few years older than you, and didn't say much?"

"That's her. She called us from the airport and stopped by Ami's place a little before midnight. I'm surprised you remembered her."

"Well, we only met once or twice," Ikuko admitted. "She seemed like a nice girl, but I never really got the chance to get to know her. I never did quite understand why someone her age was hanging around with the rest of you."

"She sort of looks after Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru," Usagi said hastily. Rei burst out laughing. "What's so funny?"

"Haruka would string you up by your pigtails if she heard you suggesting that she couldn't take care of herself."

"Well, it's the truth," Usagi stammered. "Sort of. You won't tell her I said that, will you?"

"Give me back those manga you stole from me, and I'll think about it."

"I did NOT steal any manga from you!"

"Issues 24, 29, and 30?" Ikuko asked. Rei nodded. "They're up on her dresser. She'll give them back before you leave."

"But I haven't finished reading them yet!" Usagi wailed.

"Well then," Ikuko said in satisfaction, "you can use the extra time to do some studying." Ignoring her daughter's horrified expression, Ikuko went on. "So who was the other visitor? Anyone we can expect to call on us?"

"I hope not," Usagi muttered. "I can live without more things like THAT showing up on the doorstep, thank you very much." Ikuko frowned.

"That's not a very polite thing to say about a guest, Usagi."

"I wasn't trying to be polite, and it wasn't a guest. Ami's house looks like a train derailed and went through the living room because of that thing."

Ikuko stopped polishing the plate. "I see. One of THOSE." She gave both girls a visual once-over, absently adjusting Usagi's collar. "But you're all right?"

"The doctor said so."

"Doctor?" In the kitchen, Luna choked on her milk.

*Nice going, Usagi.* Rei looked around. "Why don't we sit down? This could take a while."

They moved into the living room, Rei taking a chair while mother and daughter took the couch. Ikuko set her dish and cloth on the table and turned to Usagi. The look on her face could have driven nails down from across the room.

"Tell me everything."

"We were getting ready to go to sleep," Usagi began, cautiously crossing her fingers and silently praying that she could keep straight the details of the story Ami had put together. "I think it was about two or two-thirty, and Setsuna was staying over as well. She and Ami got the couches downstairs, and the rest of us were in the upstairs rooms. I was getting a drink from the kitchen when we heard something explode. We went for the windows and saw the Senshi fighting this... thing... outside." Rei took up the story.

"It went on for a while, and then the whatever-it-was fired some sort of energy beam. It was facing Ami's house when it went off; the Senshi got out of the way, but the house... well, you get the idea."

"And you, Ami, and Setsuna were in the living room?"

"Yes. I was too scared to move, and Ami sort of looked like she was going to shoot lasers from her eyes or something—I've never seen her so angry—so Setsuna pushed us both out of the way before the living room blew up. Ami and I got out in one piece, but Setsuna was between us and the blast, and she took the worst of it. We tried to call the hospitals, but with the phone lines acting up... well, Ami's mother got home from a dinner party a few minutes later, and she drove the three of us to the hospital."

"The rest of us got dressed and walked over," Rei said. "Setsuna was just being moved out of the emergency room when we arrived."

"Is she all right?"

"A lot of minor burns and bruising on her back," Usagi replied, "plus a cracked rib and a dislocated shoulder. And a lot of medical gibberish. It didn't seem too serious until we went in to see her." Usagi paused, realizing that her eyes were actually starting to tear up.

"Usagi?"

"I'm okay, mom. Really." Usagi sniffled and brushed the tears aside, looking up with a smile. "See? All better."

"Setsuna hit her head when she fell," Rei explained, sparing a sidelong glance at Usagi, as if to criticize her for overacting her part. "It really didn't look that bad, but when we went in to see her, Setsuna didn't recognize us. And she couldn't remember much of anything about herself, either."

"Oh my."

"We spent a couple of hours telling her what we could, but the doctors said that it could take days or weeks or months before Setsuna really remembers anything. Or it could take longer. Or she might never remember." Usagi took a deep breath. "They'll do what they can while she stays in the hospital, but they didn't seem too enthusiastic. They'll be discharging Setsuna in about a week—maybe two, depending on how quickly she heals—and there isn't really anything else they can do to help. They said that the best thing to do is to get her back into familiar surroundings and her usual routine as soon as possible."

"The problem," Rei went on, "is that Setsuna doesn't really HAVE what you could call familiar surroundings. Michiru is still on tour in Europe; we managed to get a call through to Haruka this morning and explain what had happened, and they're all on their way back, but she didn't think they could get here for at least a week, maybe longer, and Setsuna could be out of the hospital by then. She's between jobs, she finished school years ago, and she doesn't have any family. Any friends she has besides us, she never mentioned." Ikuko looked at the two girls suspiciously.

"Why do I get the feeling this is leading somewhere?"

"The doctors said that leaving Setsuna alone would be a very bad idea," Usagi said. "The others are with her at the hospital right now, telling her what they can. Rei and I will be headed back later on, and we'll all be visiting her as often as we can, but we have school, and Setsuna needs a place to stay once she gets out of the hospital. Even if Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru got home tomorrow, they all have school, too; Setsuna would have to spend days by herself in that house. She couldn't have stayed at Ami-chan's even if it were still in one piece, because neither Ami nor her mother are home during the day. Mako-chan lives by herself, and both of Mina-chan's parents work."

"So of course," Ikuko finished, "that leaves us or Rei-chan. And since I've met her grandfather—no offense, dear— "

"None taken."

"—that really just leaves us. Very clever, Usagi."

"I liked it," Usagi mumbled, looking at the floor.

"Oh, stop pouting. Of COURSE Setsuna can stay with us."

"You mean it? Thanks, mom." Usagi latched on to her mother in a happy hug. "You're the best."

"She is going to have to sleep in your room, though," Ikuko added with a dry smile. "I can air out the spare mattress in the attic, but we really don't have all that much extra space."

"I don't mind," Usagi said immediately.

"That may not be such a good idea," Rei observed lightly. "Are you aware that your daughter snores like a passing thunderstorm?"

"I do NOT snore!" Usagi protested, half-turning where she sat.

"She gets it from Kenji," Ikuko said, laughing. "Between the two of them, there are nights when I'm surprised that the windows don't rattle."

"M-O-M!" Usagi wailed. "That's not fair!"

"As Mina-chan might try to say, 'all's fair in love and war.'" Ikuko tweaked her daughter's nose, still laughing. Rei joined her while Usagi pouted again. Ikuko paused in mid-laugh, that vague look of dawning recollection crossing her face a second time. "Speaking of which, something came for you in the mail this morning. Hang on a minute."

Ikuko got up and left the room, taking the more-or-less dry plate and the cloth with her. She returned a short time later, having traded in the mock china and tattered dishtowel for a small parcel that fit rather neatly in the palm of her hand. Luna trailed after Ikuko as she sat down and handed the little package to Usagi.

The object, quite heavy for its small size, had a square bottom, its sides rising just a little short of twice the length, all wrapped in royal blue paper with some very intricate folding at the top. A plain white card, tucked under some of those folds and with the name "Tsukino Usagi" scrawled on it, was the only kind of identification, and Usagi felt her heart skip a beat as she looked at that card. She was no expert on writing, but the elaborate, flowing script looked too much like the calligraphy from Setsuna's mysterious letter to be coincidence.

The card came away very easily. It had not been taped or fixed to the package in any way, merely anchored by the folds of the wrapping, and when Usagi tugged on those folds, the parcel quite literally unwrapped itself, exposing the crinkled white inside of the paper and the plain cardboard box within. The 'box' was actually more of a 'sleeve,' covering something which was fixed to the black plastic base.

"What's this?" Rei said suddenly, picking up and smoothing out the paper. There were words—a poem?—written on the inside:  
_  
Eternal infinity, all space and time;  
Paradox and enigma, wrapped up in rhyme.  
Ending in fire and therein also to start;  
The Egg of the Phoenix—keep it close to your heart._

The three women looked up at each other, down at the paper, and then back to the still-hidden object. Usagi very carefully slid the cardboard away—and came very close to dropping the whole thing when she saw what was inside. All three of them gasped in astonished wonder, and Luna's jaw very nearly hit the floor.

It was a crystal sculpture of an egg in the instant of its hatching. The shell had shattered into four large fragments, with many smaller pieces scattered about between their jagged edges, all of them little thicker than a piece of paper; the top of the egg was in perhaps a dozen different parts, suspended on wire so fine that they appeared to be floating. And there, inside the fractured shell, was the uncurling form of a strange, beautiful bird. Its wings were pressing outwards against the shell as its head rose up, beak open as if to cry out—in wonder? Any lesser emotion would not have done justice to the expression on the tiny, flickering features, and that detail was not confined to the firebird's face alone. Curling plumes rolled off its neck, wings, and tail like frozen flame; every single feather seemed to leap out at the eye. The eggshell was clear crystal, but the phoenix itself was tinted with deep reds and a bright orange so vividly reminiscent of fire that Usagi almost thought that she could feel her hand grow warm.

"I don't... it's... it's beautiful." Usagi quickly set the piece down on the coffee table, directly in a ray of sunlight which set its colors to dancing, just like real flame.

"Why did you do that?" Rei asked, half entranced by the subtly shifting colors of the egg and its occupant. *It's almost like watching the fire at the shrine,* she thought, having to fight down an impulse to extend her mind towards the effect.

"I'm afraid I might drop it." With some effort, Usagi pulled her eyes away from the glowing sculpture and looked at her mother. "Who sent this?"

"I have no idea," Ikuko replied. "It was sitting next to the paper this morning. I thought it might be something from Mamoru..." She stopped when Usagi shook her head. "You don't think he sent it?"

"He would have mentioned it in his letter if he had," Usagi said. "I'm sure of it. And besides..." She looked at the beautiful gift. "I can't begin to imagine how much something like this must cost. My ring was one thing, but Mamo- chan's still paying for his apartment at college, and... there's just no way he could have afforded it." There was also the matter of the handwriting to consider, but Usagi couldn't explain that to her mother.

"And besides which," Rei added, "Mamoru knows better than to buy anything even remotely breakable for you."

"That too," Usagi agreed without a trace of anger. She looked at the tiny phoenix again, taking a deep breath. "Mom, we have to get back to the hospital to let Setsuna and the others know she can stay here. Could you put this in my room? Somewhere I won't knock it over?"

"Of course."

"And tell Shingo that if he goes anywhere near it, he'll never get out of this house alive." Ikuko smiled.

"I'll do that, too." Then she glanced down at Luna. "And that goes double for you, Luna."

"Meow." *Talking to me as if I were Artemis... honestly!*

Usagi and Rei retrieved their coats and winter gear—and Usagi rolled her eyes when Ikuko added a scarf and a good-bye kiss, cautioning her daughter to keep warm. Then they were walking side-by-side down the freshly ploughed sidewalk, Luna keeping pace a short distance ahead.

"So," Rei said at last. "Did you recognize the handwriting?"

"Uh-huh. I don't like this. First they—whoever 'they' are—do something to Setsuna, then they send her a letter, and now I get... Luna, have you ever seen something like that before?"

"I'm sorry, Usagi. I've never seen or heard of anything quite like that little sculpture before. I AM quite certain that it's more than just a piece of blown glass and shaved crystal, but as to _what_..." She shook her furry head. "Maybe Ami can learn something with her computer."

"And maybe it'll start snowing moochi, too." Usagi sighed.

"Don't give them any ideas," Rei said. "For all we know, they could be listening right now."

"You're just being paranoid," Usagi countered. "You really should read something less gloomy than all those scrolls about snooping spirits and vengeful gods."

"It's part of my training. Besides, how CAN I read anything else when you've got all my manga at..." Rei stopped walking and blinked. "Of all the... I forgot to get those before we left!"

"Really?" Usagi's face was a study in sympathetic innocence. Rei almost bought it, except for the mischievous twinkle in those wide blue eyes.

"You little sneak! You KNEW I'd forgotten about them, and you deliberately didn't remind me!"

"Of course." Usagi grinned. "Luna's been drilling me for months on everything she thinks a princess should know, so I figured it was about time I put some of it to good use."

"Stealing from your friends wasn't what I had in mind," Luna groaned.

"It's not stealing, it's practice." She closed her eyes and started to recite. "'A ruler must employ every weapon available in matters of diplomacy. For those who are honest, truth will suffice, but against those who wield the tools of deceit, a true queen must be ready to meet them in kind, turning their own lies back on them.' If I can fool you, Rei," Usagi gloated, "I can fool anybody." Then she giggled. "Besides, this way I get to read all three mangas again before I have to give them back—and there are still those four issues hidden under my bed that Mom doesn't know about!"

***MILLENNIALS***

Anon sighed. The bus was late again. If this hadn't been a daily event, he could have shrugged it off as fallout from New Year's parties, but as it was, he was going to be late to the office again. His supervisor, Ms. Norah the-h-is- silent Karenson, was not the most understanding woman in the world at the best of times, and after nearly a month of his being just barely on time or outright late... oh well.

Anon raised his head curiously as a teenaged blonde girl with unusual hair went running by at high speed, laughing and casting odd looks over her shoulder. A white blur followed her at even higher speed, before it exploded into a white bump on the side of a telephone pole. Two more snowballs followed the first in rapid succession, and then another girl—this one with very long, very dark hair—ran by, shrieking deadly imprecations and scooping up snow for another projectile without slowing down.

A small black cat bounded up atop the mailbox that stood on the corner, its eyes following the two girls and a growling, groaning sort of sound issuing from its throat. The noise reminded Anon of similar sounds his mother used to make when he and his brothers were on the verge of getting totally out of hand as kids. He had to chuckle.

"Friends of yours?" he asked the cat, not really expecting an answer.

The cat gave vent to an almost human-sounding sigh of vexation before leaping down from the mailbox to follow the two girls.

***MILLENNIALS***

The Cafe Mocha was one of those places that featured both indoor and outdoor tables and served a variety of dishes which didn't quite add up to a full meal. In the summer—and some of the better days of spring or autumn—most of the clientele remained outside, placing their orders with one of the waiters or waitresses and never entering the actual cafe. During the winter months, the external tables and chairs were packed away to await better weather, while the Cafe served hot chocolate and other warm, sweet, not-quite meals to its customers as they defrosted in out of the cold.

On this particular winter day, the very first of the year, the Cafe seemed to be doing business as usual. Customers drifted in by ones or twos, taking seats and placing orders which were quickly filled, then lingering over hot drinks and warm sandwiches or pastries before paying at the counter and leaving.

But business was most definitely not 'as usual' today.

The back door connected to the Cafe's kitchen was jammed open, allowing the chilly winter air to periodically gust into the building, along with the occasional sheet of loose snow and ice pellets. Since the kitchen was separated from the front of the Cafe by several walls and doors, none of the customers complained of the draft.

Neither did the kitchen staff. Employers the world over would have paid handsomely to learn how Shigeru inspired such loyalty in his workforce. So would Shigeru, if he had been capable of enough conscious thought to muster any interest.

The owner, operator, and head cook of the Cafe Mocha stumbled around in the same vacant-eyed, temperature-ignorant haze as his employees. All of them—five kitchen workers, two cashiers, one waiter, and two waitresses— were no longer capable of anything except doing as they were instructed.

The source of those instructions hung from a web of green, fungoid-looking material in the kitchen, a roundish growth which glowed oddly, pulsed every so often, and sent a continual series of commands to the tiny, star-shaped things located just behind the ear of each of its slaves.

In response to one such order, one of the kitchen workers removed a fresh pot of coffee from the machine and started towards the door which led to the counter. As the girl passed under the throbbing sphere, it extended a questing tendril and briefly touched the surface of the steaming brown liquid.

Every so often, someone with that same glassy-eyed look would trudge in through the back door and march directly to the basement, where a good ten or twelve individuals—all recent customers of the Cafe Mocha—stood in silence as more of the ropy green substance extended itself from the floor, the walls, and the ceiling to form enveloping cocoons.

And each time a new cocoon was finished, the orb in the kitchen pulsed just a little larger.

***MILLENNIALS***

"She actually BOUGHT it?" Makoto asked in disbelief.

They were in the quiet room to which Setsuna had been taken earlier—MUCH earlier—that morning. It held a second bed—currently without a patient assigned to it—various pieces of medical equipment for each bed, one small table, and a pair of chairs, placed between the two beds. Usagi and Minako had the chairs, Rei was leaning on the windowsill and looking out at the afternoon sky, and Makoto stood half-in, half-out of the doorway, one eye on the hall for any passers-by. Setsuna was sitting upright in her bed, wearing a pale blue hospital gown and an expression which came very close to that calm detachment the younger girls had always associated with her. Since the hospital didn't allow pets, both cats were somewhere outside, and Ami was curled up on the spare bed, asleep, as she had been when Rei and Usagi returned. Given that her house was only so much wreckage after the previous night's incident, the other Senshi let Ami sleep.

Besides, they had discovered that Ami was one of those people who sometimes talks in their sleep, and they were getting a kick out of some of the things she said in this subconscious state. At the moment, she was playing some kind of chess game—a game in which a certain dark-haired young knight with an uncanny ability to see the future seemed to play a prominent role.

"Of course she bought it," Usagi replied shortly. The lack of sleep was making her—all of them—grouchy. "Are you implying that my own mother doesn't trust me?"

"She probably trusts you about as much as I do," Rei muttered from the window.

"And how far is that?" Usagi asked, uncertain whether Rei was trying to be polite or insulting. Given the earlier incident with the snowballs—her odangos were still damp from several extremely precise hits—and Rei's general nature, it was hard to be sure.

"About as far as she can roll you with one hand," Minako said, grinning. The lack of sleep hadn't helped her mangled vocabulary much.

"I didn't say that," Rei objected, turning from the window.

"Then you DO trust me?"

"I didn't say that, either."

"She trusts you," Makoto interrupted, trying to break up the impending argument. "To be yourself. We all do."

"Oh." Somewhat mollified, Usagi fell silent. But only for a moment. "What do you mean, 'to be myself?' Are you saying you don't trust me implicitly, 100%, all the time?" Makoto rubbed at the bridge of her nose, trying to dispel the dull ache that seemed to have settled in somewhere behind her eyeballs.

"We're your friends, odango-atama," Rei replied, "not idiots."

"And what exactly is THAT supposed to mean?"

"Shhh!" They looked out into the hall, where a stern-faced nurse stood, admonishing them to be quiet. Usagi and Rei both blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry," they whispered together. Minako bit back a giggle while Makoto coughed politely and Setsuna's lips quirked into a small smile. The nurse gave them all a stern look before continuing on her rounds. There were several more moments of quiet before Rei spoke.

"So, did Ami mention where she and her mother would be staying for the next few weeks?"

"Months," Makoto corrected. "And she did talk it over with her mother for a while. Mizuno-san's going to stay with a friend until she finds an apartment; Ami'll stay at my place. She thought about asking you, but I guess she decided that Hikawa was too far to walk to school every day."

"She could have asked me," Minako said, somewhat sourly. Makoto grinned.

"I need more help with my homework than you do."

"Bah! Hamburger!"

There was a pause. Setsuna started to say something when she noticed Rei looking at her, shaking her head in a silent warning.

"So tell us about this mysterious present," Makoto suggested.

"You sort of have to see it to believe it," Usagi replied. "We asked Luna about it, but she has no idea what the thing might be for. And given the source, it almost HAS to be for something more important than sitting on a counter looking pretty." She smiled ruefully. "It almost makes me wish ChibiUsa were here; we could at least ask her if I'm still carrying the thing around a thousand years from now or if she ever heard it mentioned."

"She's here, you know."

"What? Where?" Usagi looked around hastily before glancing nervously at the ceiling, just in case another time portal was opening.

"Not like that," Setsuna sighed. "I meant that she's here." And she reached out to lightly touch Usagi's belly.

The instant her hand brushed against the fabric of Usagi's shirt, Setsuna felt as if the entire world were falling away from her, as if her brain was exploding at the same time as her skull tried to implode. To say that the sensation was unpleasant did not do it justice, but although she tried to withdraw her hand immediately, it seemed to take an eternity for that simple command to make its way from the brain down her arm. She knew that it would take precisely 0.00X seconds for the command to be received and interpreted by the muscles in her hand and arm, and another 0.00X seconds before her fingers would break contact with Usagi.

And in that minuscule instant, a huge wave of information surged past Setsuna's eyes. The wave, she understood immediately, was not a single piece, but rather, an interwoven mesh of innumerable... someTHINGS for which she had no name; most shot by in a grey blur, but two of the—currents? Paths? Yes, paths—two of the paths seemed to slow to the point where she could see details. Each was filled with information, not so much in form of precise data or vague visions, but rather a firm sense of knowing that THIS event had occurred at THIS place and time.

The first path, which to Setsuna's mind seemed tinted white, began as a narrow point and moved along in a continuous flow for much of its length. There came a point when it ended, like a thread suddenly cut short, and then began again a great distance from the first piece, still the same line, but somehow... different. Again, it moved along in a single direction, and then it almost appeared to curve back in on itself before proceeding further. And as her mind's eye traced this flow, Setsuna saw that, at its furthest end, the line disintegrated into a huge blur of lesser lines—no. Not lines. Junctions—and somewhere in that mass of confusion, the second path began, a trail of faint pink, somehow beginning in ten thousand different locations at once!

*What is this?* Setsuna wondered in shock. *How did I...*

At that moment, her hand pulled away, and the wave vanished as the real world surged back into view. And in that instant when everything went back to the way it should be, Setsuna was too busy trying to make sense of what she had just seen to tell her body to stop pulling back.

She hit the back of her head against the wall.

"Setsuna? What happened? Are you okay?" Through the stars she was seeing, Setsuna looked up at Usagi. Something clicked in her head.

"June 30, 13:05:24. That's when she'll be born." As the girls stared, uncomprehending, something else clicked—and not in Setsuna's head. "Excuse me," she added, pushing back her blankets and rising from the bed. She crossed the room with a kind of slow haste, not saying another word, and vanished into the washroom which adjoined the room, firmly closing the door behind her. After a moment, the Senshi could hear the unpleasantly unmistakable sounds of someone being terribly sick, and Usagi turned a faint shade of green as her own stomach made sympathetic twists. She had woken up a month ago with her own bout of nausea; after one morning, Usagi had decided she didn't care for the experience. Oddly enough, it hadn't happened since, but now her stomach seemed to want to make up for lost time, and it took most of the internal strength Usagi could muster to keep her last meal where it was supposed to be.

"Mmm... wha..." On the other bed, Ami began to rise, opening one bleary eye and yawning. *Why do I have this odd feeling that Ryo-kun should be here?* The train of thought and the yawn died when she noticed the empty bed. "Where's..." Another sound from the washroom answered the half-finished question, and Ami added her own sleep-rimmed, worried gaze to the vigil.

Eventually, there was quiet, followed by the sound of a toilet flushing, several seconds of running water, and a few soft splashes. Then the door opened, and a pale, damp-faced Setsuna emerged.

"Could you help me back to my bed?"

"Sure." Makoto moved to put one arm around her friend—and the instant they touched, Setsuna fell to her knees. The surge was back, blotting out the world in a weave of grey. This time, the flow which appeared in front of her eyes was an emerald green. It had the same break and the same curious loop as the white flow, but the feelings it evoked in Setsuna's mind were considerably different.

*Not again! Get out! Stop it!* She flailed with mental arms, trying to push away the confusing flood. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, as her eyes came back into focus, Setsuna realized that the green she was seeing was not in the strange flow, but in Makoto's eyes, not far from her own and looking extremely worried. Looking at those eyes, something Setsuna had seen— felt?— in the flow pushed forward, and she was speaking before she realized it.

"Four years ago," she whispered. "May 10, 10:42:19." Makoto's eyes widened, and worry was replaced by shock and the beginnings of tears. "I'm so sorry."

"Can you stand?" Makoto said roughly.

"I think so." Setsuna tried to get to her feet, but when she was finally standing, it was evident that Makoto was doing most of the work.

"What's going on? What happened?" The girls looked past Makoto and Setsuna to see the stern-faced nurse and an orderly—a medium-sized sort of fellow with dark hair—standing in the hall.

"She was sick," Makoto replied tersely. "Then she almost blacked out again."

"Then we'd better get her back to bed." The woman pressed a button on the intercom located just inside the door. "Desk, find Doctor Yotogi and tell him to get to room 303." The disembodied voice of the nurse at the desk made an affirmative reply as the intercom buzzed off. "Let us handle this," the woman said preemptively.

"I've got her." The other Senshi twitched collectively. They knew what that tone of voice meant.

"You really should..."

"I said I've GOT HER!" The orderly, who a moment before had been stepping forward, now stepped hastily back, swallowing heavily. The nurse seemed more annoyed than frightened, but she didn't repeat her 'request,' and Makoto easily supported Setsuna back to her bed. Minako and Usagi scooted their chairs back quickly as the nurse, looking darkly at Makoto, made her way around the bed. The orderly took up a position just inside and out-of-the-way of the door, doing his best to remain unnoticed as the nurse began checking Setsuna.

The woman took Setsuna's wrist to check her pulse, and frowned when the young lady's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, the muscles in the hand and the rest of her body twitching. Looking up, the nurse saw a momentary blurriness in the girl's eyes which caused the frown to deepen. Nothing in the medical file or the questions her friends had answered mentioned anything about epilepsy or a heart condition, but...

"You girls should step outside for the..."

"We're not going anywhere."

The nurse released Setsuna's wrist and faced off against Makoto with an expression that had gone from annoyed to angry; she obviously didn't like being contradicted. Caught with two hostile forces on either side of her bed and a mild headache as the last of the most recent surge—this time with a line of pale brown—faded away, Setsuna looked to the other Senshi for assistance and found only nervous faces. The orderly, for his part, did not move except to look up and silently beseech some higher power beyond the ceiling for strength and good luck. Considering that he wasn't much larger than Makoto, he was going to need large doses of both if a fight broke out.

They were all so intent on the building tension that no one noticed the two men who had appeared in the hall and were now looking in at the room and its occupants. They were both doctors. The one in the lead was tall, dark-haired, and good-looking in an ER kind of way; he was a couple of years older than Setsuna, probably only out of med school for a year or two. The second man was shorter, rounder, and likely a couple of decades older than his colleague. Most of the hair on his head seemed to have migrated south to form a short, rusty-rown beard, and the hair remaining in the northern latitudes was nearly all white, including the thick eyebrows which framed his thin-rimmed glasses.

"If this is a bad time," the taller man said hesitantly, "we can come back later."

"Quit joking around and see to your patient," the older doctor growled good-naturedly. He glanced past his associate at the girls. "You're looking well, Rabbit," he said to Usagi, speaking the last word in English. "Been eating too many carrots, I see."

"Hello, Doc," Usagi replied. "What's up?"

"Why don't we wait and see?"

"Excuse me," the younger doctor said politely to Makoto as he stepped up to the end of the bed and looked across at the nurse. "Details?"

"Nausea, near loss of consciousness, and a severe loss of muscle control in the lower body at least—she had to be carried back into bed. There was also a sudden increase in heart rate and something that almost looked like a seizure when I checked her pulse."

"We were talking," Usagi piped up. "She froze right in the middle of saying something and then pulled back so fast she hit her head. Then she said something... a date, I think."

"June 30," Minako said, "13:05:24." The doctors and the nurse looked at each other.

"13:05:24?" the younger man repeated. "What's that?"

"Thirteen hours, five minutes, and twenty-four seconds," Setsuna replied wearily. "It's when Usagi's baby is going to be born."

"I see." The nurse looked up at the doctor. "It could be an allergic reaction to the antibiotics, or just a result of the head trauma."

"Is it?" Setsuna looked directly at the woman, trying to recall some of what she had seen. "You have a daughter. She was born May 2nd, 1989, at 07:44:41. And on February 9th of this year, at 16:09:48, someone is going to ask you to marry him. I didn't see who, or whether you said yes. Does that sound like an allergic reaction or head trauma to you?"

"As a matter of fact, it does." The nurse tried not to let her surprise show. *How did she know about Megan?* "I've heard the same kind of certainty from all sorts of people, if you want to know. The nearest is a man one floor down who thinks he can fly and has to be kept sedated to stop him from trying to prove it."

"She's not crazy," Makoto said in a terribly quiet voice. "And she's telling you the truth."

"She may think so," the nurse replied, "but a few lucky guesses with some random dates don't..."

None of them were really prepared for Makoto's reaction. With a sound that was almost a howl, she grabbed the doctor standing next to her and threw him back before reaching across the bed to seize the nurse by the lapels. The doctor collided with the startled orderly, and both men hit the floor at about the same time as Makoto was bodily hauling the astonished nurse across the width of Setsuna's bed. Makoto was no larger than the nurse, and yet she lifted the woman easily, spinning around to slam her into the wall and hold her there, pinned, one arm braced across her shoulders and throat while the bottoms of her feet dangled above the floor.

"They aren't just random dates!" Makoto snarled, her face a mask of blind rage. It was impossible to know if Makoto could tell, through the red haze that filled her vision, that the nurse's face was growing darker; if she did know, she seemed not to care. The older doctor was halfway to the door to shout for security when Usagi leapt to her feet.

"Makoto! Put her down!"

The nurse continued to dangle, her face verging on a dangerous shade of purple.

"NOW!" Usagi snapped, throwing every ounce of command she could muster into that single word. Setsuna stared, shocked, while the other Senshi blinked in surprise, half-expecting to see a brief vision of their Princess appear; Usagi NEVER spoke in that tone. The older doctor seemed equally taken aback, while the two men untangling on the floor paused in the middle of picking themselves up to stare.

It worked. The set of Makoto's shoulders changed, and the nurse dropped to the floor, one hand going to her throat as she gasped for air, the other hand waving off the assistance of the orderly.

"I... apologize," Makoto said slowly. "I shouldn't have done that." Without another word, she left the room, surrounded by a two-foot space in all directions as everyone scrambled to get out of her way.

"Go after her, Mina-chan. Try to keep her from hurting anybody."

"Yeah, right. Whatever." As she hurried out to catch up with Makoto, Minako muttered, "Who's going to keep her from hurting ME?"

The doctors and the nurse looked at the orderly; the man paled visibly, gulped, and followed Minako out of the room.

"Interesting friend you have there, Rabbit. She reminds me of a hurricane I ran into when I was on vacation in Florida a few years ago." Standing in the doorway, the older doctor shook his head as, down the hall, the elevator doors closed behind Makoto; still some distance behind, Minako said something under her breath and ran for the stairs. The orderly hesitated before following her.

"Mako-chan's a bit intense," Usagi said absently, speaking to the doctor as she walked over to help the nurse get to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"I'll live." The woman laughed hoarsely. "Your friend's a lot stronger than I thought, but I've been through worse. Not MUCH worse," she added, wincing and rubbing at the base of her throat. "Does she attack everyone she comes across, or only people she doesn't like?"

"She does get into fights sometimes," Usagi admitted, "but she's never just attacked someone like that. I don't understand why a few numbers would get her so..." Usagi's voice trailed off, and she turned to look back at Setsuna. "You said... four years ago?"

"May 10th, 10:42:19," Setsuna repeated with a sad smile.

"Her parents," Usagi said quietly, voicing what Ami and Rei had both guessed. She turned to explain the situation to the three adults, but their expressions said that they'd already recognized the implications, if not the details. Hesitantly, Usagi asked, "Mako-chan's not going to get in trouble for this, is she?"

"Well..." The older doctor seemed reluctant to speak. "She *did* try to strangle Fuucho-san, Usagi..."

"She had a reason for it," the nurse replied. The doctor gave her a sharp look, and she added, "Let it go, Miko-san. I'm not hurt, and the girl... people make mistakes. And that one wasn't entirely her fault."

"If you're sure..."

"I am." The woman looked at Usagi and Setsuna. "Is your friend going to be visiting often?" When both of them murmured faint affirmatives, the nurse nodded. "All right. I'll do my best to stay out of her way." She headed out of the room, but paused at the door, looking back at Usagi. "If you wouldn't mind... pass on my apologies for my behavior."

Usagi nodded, and the woman left the room. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"So," the younger doctor said at least, facing the three girls. His face wore an expression of moderately restrained enthusiasm. "How long has Miss Meiou been demonstrating pre- and retrocognitive abilities?"

Usagi blinked. "Huh?"

Ami, having learned long ago the effect that large words tended to have on Usagi, was answering the monosyllabism almost before it got asked:

"Precognition is the extrasensory ability to see into the future; retrocognition is the counterpart ability to see into the past." She rattled the definitions off in her best textbook voice, then fixed the doctor with a suspicious look, adding, "MOST people in the scientific community disbelieve in the existence of either."

"Very true," the doctor replied, "but then, I'm not most people. You're Mizuno-san's daughter, aren't you? The one studying to be a doctor?"

"That's right. And you are?"

"Yotogi Lucas." When the odd looks arrived, he smiled. "My mother was from California. So am I, when you get right down to it."

"I don't see what that has to do with you asking questions about precag... ratrock..." Usagi made a face.

"Don't hurt yourself," Rei murmured. Usagi glowered at her.

"Usagi has a point," Ami said. Rei sighed while Usagi beamed; Ami ignored them both and continued speaking. "What kind of doctor goes around asking patients about ESP?"

"I see you've never been to California," Lucas said dryly. "I'm actually a neural specialist, but I've been fascinated by the paranormal since I was a kid. It's sort of a hobby of mine now—trying to find a scientific proof of ESP or other mental abilities. Sometimes I get a little carried away," he added, nodding apologetically at Setsuna.

"Just don't ask me to guess your birthday," she replied wearily. "After three flashes, my head feels ready to explode. NO!" she snapped, pulling one hand away from Usagi, who had been about to take it. Setsuna regretted her harsh tone immediately. "I'm sorry, Usagi-chan. I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just... I'm not sure if I can keep this... THING turned off if someone touches me."

"It's okay. I understand."

"It only happens when you touch someone?" Lucas asked.

"So far. Once for Usagi-chan, once for Mako-chan, and once for the nurse. Is that... unusual?"

"Not really. I've seen any number of cases where the person is able to pick up emotive imprints or images from items they handle. The sudden system shock is fairly common as well."

"So to be safe, all I have to do is not touch anyone?"

"That can't be right," Usagi objected. "You never used to black out whenever you bumped into someone. You must have touched any one of us a half-dozen times last night, and you didn't space out THEN."

"Does Setsuna customarily wear gloves?"

"Well... yes," Usagi admitted. It was true enough—ALL of them wore gloves in their Senshi identities, and Setsuna had LIVED as Pluto for most of the last two thousand years. "But not ALL the time."

"If her ability requires direct contact with the person she's going to... I suppose 'scan' is as good a word as any, but if that's the case, gloves would probably interfere to some extent." Lucas thought for a moment. "And the fact that she could interact with other people without triggering her ability suggests that it CAN be controlled; the amnesia's just cut out the experience which allowed her to use that control. The knowledge of how to suppress the scan is likely still in your mind," he said, facing Setsuna. "You just need some time to find it again."

"I *was* able to shut it down faster the second and third times," she admitted, looking carefully at her hands. "Usagi-chan, hold out your hand."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." For a moment, the face, attitude, and voice were once again distinctly Pluto. Usagi reached out slowly, and Setsuna very lightly rested her fingertips against Usagi's, looking at them intently. After several seconds, a small smile formed on her lips. "Nothing but a little flicker this time." Then she frowned. "Something about falling luggage, I think."

*'There is nothing supernatural or dangerous about either the luggage itself or any of the contents, except when Usagi drops the medium case on her right foot two weeks from now.'* The words of the mysterious letter came unbidden to Rei's mind. By the expression on her face, Usagi was remembering the words as well.

"Now that," Doc said with a grin, "I can believe."

"What _is_ your opinion on this, anyway?" Ami asked.

"I keep an open mind." Doc removed his glasses, polishing away some invisible speck of grime. He had rather startling eyes, dark blue almost to the point of being black. "I accept that there are a lot of things in this world that modern science can't explain, and leave the hunt for details up to people like Lucas. I have my hands full just practicing mundane medicine without worrying about conflicting psychic auras or the like." Both doctors' beepers went off. "See what I mean?" Doc pressed a button on the intercom. "This is Miko. Yotogi's with me."

"Call for you on line five, Doctor, a Shigawa Kari calling about rescheduling flu shots. And Doctor Yotogi is wanted for a consult in the OR."

"On my way," Lucas said. "I'll check on you later, Meiou-san. I want to refresh my memory on a few things, but I might be able to give you some advice on dealing with your ability."

"I'd appreciate that," Setsuna thanked him. Lucas nodded and left the room.

"Tell the OR that Yotogi's on his way," Miko said to the intercom. "I'll take the call in my office." Then he released the button. "Well, duty calls. Ladies, it was nice to meet all of you; Rabbit, I guess we'll talk again at that ultrasound next month. Try not to eat so many carrots between now and then, okay?"

"Are you a doctor or a comedian?" Usagi called as he slipped out the door.

"That depends," the man's reply came back. "What day of the week is it?"

"I take it you and 'Doc' know each other?" Rei asked.

"Doc's the family physician," Usagi said absently. "He was the one who delivered me, and he's been looking after me ever since. I think he's related to Mom—a third cousin or some uncle's half-brother or something like that."

"Why do you call him that?" Setsuna asked.

"He has a thing for old American cartoons," Usagi explained. "Something about a talking rabbit that goes around outsmarting hunters and calling everyone 'Doc.' So he teases me about carrots and calls me 'Rabbit,' and I call him 'Doc.' I'm not even sure what his name actually is."

"I think we can live without knowing," Rei said. "I'm more worried that he or one of the other three might let something slip about Setsuna." She looked at the older girl. "I don't mean to sound harsh, but did you really have to blurt all that out?"

"You're assuming I had any control over it," Setsuna replied coolly. "I didn't actually see any of the events I mentioned; it was more like remembering something that had already happened, and it included the feeling of the event. I had to go through the emotions of two births, a wedding proposal, a plane crash..." She cut off.

"Rei," Usagi said gently, "the first time you saw something in the fire at the shrine, what happened?"

"All right, all right, I get the point. I'm sorry, Setsuna-san. I should know better than anyone what this sort of ability can do if you're not used to it." Rei sighed. "I'm just worried that the wrong person might catch wind of this—and that includes ordinary people as much as it does supernatural monsters."

***MILLENNIALS***

"Go away, Minako."

"No chance of that," Minako replied. "Usagi-chan told me to keep you out of trouble."

They were in the main floor lobby of the hospital, surrounded by a fairly large area into which no one else had stepped since Makoto had entered. She was standing in front of a large window, looking out into a snowed-over patch of grass and trees and trying very hard not to think; Minako had dragged over a chair and sat quietly, watching for any signs of another eruption. The orderly was over in the far corner, being as invisible as possible.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Minako asked hopefully.

"Not really. I made a mistake, I apologized. That's the end of it."

"Hardly. Why did you attack the nurse like that? I know she was a little pushy, but you usually give people a warning before you clobber them."

"I didn't like her attitude."

Minako waited. And waited. Finally, when it was quite clear that Makoto wasn't going to discuss the matter any further, Minako sighed inwardly. She was pretty sure that Makoto's little outburst had been set off by something the nurse had said, but if she pushed for answers right now, she might also inadvertently push a few of the wrong Britons and trigger another explosion. At the moment, it was probably in everyone's best interest if she could find a way to cheer Makoto up, and a vague idea of how to accomplish that was working its way through the gears in her mind.

"Well, you're no fun at all when you're like this. Come on." She took Makoto by one arm and started for the door.

"Let go of me, Minako. I'm not going anywhere."

It must be said in Makoto's defense that she really did TRY to stay put. The problem was that, as strong as she might be, Minako could, in a way, be even stronger. Or maybe pushy was a better word. Annoying, even. *Yes,* Makoto decided, *annoying would describe her very well, a continuous droning about the eardrums, a blonde gnat that buzzes and buzzes and buzzes no matter how many times you tried to shoo it away. This must be something like how Rei sees Usagi.*

If she could just get her sleeve free, she could get away, but of course, that simple task was suddenly impossible. Just shaking her arm to try and yank the fabric out from between Minako's fingers couldn't do it, and pulling in the opposite direction had also failed; Minako simply spun around Makoto, still holding her arm, turning her friend about in a full circle and then pulling forward once more, with a hefty dose of centrifugal force working in her favor. Repeated threats weren't doing the trick, either, mostly because Minako knew Makoto wouldn't follow through on them. Artemis—having lost a game of rock- paper-scissors with Luna for the honor of staying at the hospital or following the wandering Senshi—trailed the two at a distance, trying not to laugh at their antics. Finally, Makoto gave up.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, just this little place I know. You really need something to help you relax, Mako-chan, and this place makes the absolute BEST hot chocolate in the city. And one of the waiters who works there is SOOO cute, although I'm not sure if he works today or not, but you've got to see him..."

Minako rambled on as 'the little place' came into view. Makoto spotted a sign in the large window next to the door just before Minako dragged her inside.

*Cafe Mocha,* she thought absently. *Is that supposed to be a joke?*

***MILLENNIALS***

The zombified workers in the Cafe staggered collectively as their fungoid master twitched. For just a moment, the haze in their eyes was replaced by a glimmer of consciousness, self-awareness tinged with flecks of confusion and rising panic. Then the star-shaped devices reasserted their control, and the numbness returned.

The collector shuddered. Something very powerful was nearby, perhaps even in the building it had taken over. If it was discovered, the collector knew it had little hope to beat off an attack by whatever the source of the energy might be. It would need to use up all the energy it had gathered, violate the terms of its mission, and even that might not be enough to prevent discovery.

But on the other hand, if this new power could be added to the collector's own growing source...

***MILLENNIALS***

"Are you okay?" Makoto asked as the waitress stumbled, coming dangerously close to spilling her tray of empty glasses and plates.

"What? Where..." The girl shook her head as if surprised at her surroundings, and had started to turn back to Makoto when, between one eyeblink and the next, her eyes seemed to cloud over. "I'm fine," the girl replied in an odd voice. "Thanks." And she went back to her work.

"That was odd," Artemis observed quietly from Minako's lap. "Is it me, or did that girl seem like she was just waking up?"

"We weren't the only ones to have a busy night," Minako said. "There are probably a lot of people out today who should still be in bed."

"I dunno," the white cat mumbled, looking around cautiously. "Something about this place makes my left ear twitch."

"Oh," Minako said sagely. "Your left ear's twitching. Of course. She must be a youma in disguise." Minako leaned over the table to whisper at Makoto. "He claims his left ear twitches every time he gets near sources of negative energy."

"Well, it does," Artemis muttered sullenly. "And there's a funny smell in here, too."

"That's just the coffee and hot chocolate. I've heard that the owner puts a few spices in as part of some secret recipe. Speaking of which, here comes ours now." The other waitress set two steaming cups down in front of them and walked off with even less emotion than her co-worker had shown.

Makoto picked up her cup and raised it to take a drink, noting as she did so that Artemis might be right; there was an odd sort of smell in this place, almost like... like... she couldn't quite place it, but the smell was unpleasant, and unlike any combination of spices she could remember.

When the hot chocolate hit her tongue, a taste even more foul than the odd smell filled her mouth. Years of culinary expertise had left Makoto with the finely developed ability of a master chef to discern separate dishes by flavor alone. Usagi could do something similar, though HER expertise was that of the gourmet diner, the ultimate eater. Right now, something that tasted rather like the smell of rotten meat and spoiled cabbage and soured milk all rolled into one was sending that flavor sensitivity into a five-alarm fit. Makoto reflexively spit the vile brew back into the cup and set it down on the table hard enough to rattle Minako's cup.

"What's with you?" Minako asked in surprise.

"How can you _drink_ that stuff? It's terrible!"

"It tastes fine to me," Minako replied, confused. "Are you okay, Mako- chan? You look a little green around the bills."

"I need to get some air," Makoto said, grabbing her coat as she rose from her seat. The taste in her mouth seemed to befoul every breath she took, multiplying that faint, sickly odor a hundred times. Artemis was right behind her as she left. Minako pulled a few bills and coins from one pocket, leaving them on the table as she hurried after her friends.

She caught up to them amidst the snow-dusted tables filling the Cafe's summer dining area. Makoto was leaning against a lamppost, coughing roughly, while Artemis sat atop one of the tables and watched her with a worried, distinctly un-catlike expression.

"I'm okay," Makoto said immediately. "It's just that... that place... the air in there was awful."

"What are you talking about? There was nothing wro..." Minako's words cut off suddenly. It felt as if an invisible, immaterial hand were trying to wrap its fingers around her brain. The pressure built until it was almost unbearable and then, in a flash of golden light, it was gone as quickly as it had begun, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Minako had to close her eyes to prevent a sudden rush of vertigo; when she opened them, Makoto was looking at her with a familiar, wry smile.

"You were saying?"

"Something's going on in there," Artemis said decisively. "All the staff I saw seemed to be in a kind of trance, and a lot of the customers weren't much better. Nobody looked up when we ran out."

"The drinks?"

"Must be," Artemis agreed. "I'm not sure why you'd have picked up on it when Minako didn't, though." He glanced over as the door opened. "Look!"

One of the customers, a slightly overweight middle-aged man in a long grey coat, was just leaving the building. He walked slowly, even awkwardly, and his eyes were empty. He passed the girls without seeing them, turned, and headed down the sidewalk at a slow, unsteady pace.

"Come on," Makoto said.

They followed the man at a distance. At first, it appeared that he might actually be going about business as usual—whatever it might be—but when he began to double back the way he had come, Makoto and Minako nodded grimly and reached for their transformation pens.

"Well, that clinches it," Minako observed as the dull-eyed fellow ambled into the open back door of the Cafe Mocha. "Something's up." She looked around, but they appeared to be alone in this back alley. "Let's do it."

A few seconds later, Sailors Venus and Jupiter were alone in the back alley.

"Should we call for backup?" Jupiter asked.

"Probably a good idea. We don't know what might be in there, and it's not so far from the hospital that we can't afford to wait for Mars and Mercury." Venus switched on her communicator, and Rei's face appeared.

"What's going on? Where are you?" Rei frowned, taking in Minako's now-subtly altered features and Senshi attire. "Makoto didn't do something silly, did she?"

"No, nothing like that. We're about three blocks south of the hospital, outside a place called the Cafe Mocha. There's something weird going on here—some sort of mind-control drug in the drinks, and Artemis says the place is buzzing with bad vibes. We thought it might be better to aim all guns at the bear before going in."

"We'll be there in five," Rei said, her face only slightly scrunched up in confusion about Venus' latest mangling of the language. At least THIS one actually made some sort of sense.

"Up there." Artemis pointed his nose to the roof behind them. "Mars and Mercury will be able to see us better, and we'll spot anything that comes out of the Cafe."

***MILLENNIALS***

The collector gave another violent shudder. The first force was still very near, and something just as strong was approaching rapidly. There was no more time to waste.

The green orb began to throb steadily, its dull glow darkening towards red. In the basement, the assembled cocoons also began to radiate that dim light, impulses of energy coursing their way up through coiled links of ropy, fungal matter to the central growth, which was rapidly gaining in size.

Some of the less stupefied customers had just enough presence of mind remaining to look up in surprise as a hundred curling vinelike appendages burst out from the kitchen, wrapping around every warm body in the Cafe before they began sending more of the red light-pulses back to the collector.

***MILLENNIALS***

"This doesn't look good," Mercury said nervously, comparing the readouts of her visor with the recorded data on her computer. "I'm reading a massive buildup of energy in there, and a lot of the human life-signs are dropping off. There's also a huge concentration of the same biomatter which that creature we fought last night was made of."

"Define 'huge,'" Venus asked nervously, right before the Cafe's low roof groaned, creaked, and exploded upwards and outwards in a spray of dust, splinters, and shattered plastic.

"About that big," Mercury said simply, pointing at the pulsing green mass now trying to squeeze its way up out of the wrecked building.

It was more or less spherical, a blubbery ball of what looked like tightly packed green moss, five or six meters across and trailing half a hundred loosely flapping tendrils as it floated into the air. Glassy beads scattered about the thing's bulk pulsed with dull red light, a horde of pupilless eyes staring out at the world in all directions. Unlike the first fungus-creature, the only appliances on this one were falling to earth in its wake as the thing rose higher, shedding a second skin of debris.

The Senshi backed up as the bloated green ball rose above the roofline, now totally free of the restraining junkpile below. Several of its many lashing appendages twisted around, the tiny, red-glowing spots at their tips focusing on the Senshi; the glowing intensified.

"I think we're in trouble," Venus said.

When the energy beams shot out from the thing a moment later, the other girls were too busy dodging to answer her.

***MILLENNIALS***

*How do I get IN to these things?* Artemis thought, leaping for all he was worth as a mix of angry red energy and falling pieces of brick rained down into the alley on all sides. Jumping back into the alley from the exploding rooftop had seemed like a good idea at the time, and now, like so many other good ideas Artemis had come up with in his time, it seemed likely to get him killed. Never mind that he'd gotten out of scrapes a hundred times worse than this—they were all in the past, and this was right now, full color, bigger than life, and twice as ugly.

There was a flash and a roar, followed by the appearance of a greasy cloud of smoke that smelled worse than most trashcans Artemis had ever met. He hadn't heard the words, but he knew that Mars was probably responsible, and that the green entity was likely on fire right now. And did it ever STINK! Artemis could clearly remember being caught up in two or three hundred confrontations with inhuman fiends bent on world domination, destruction, or depletion, and none of them had EVER smelled this bad.

He ducked inside what was left of the Cafe in search of some corner where the coiling streamers of smoke hadn't yet reached; even the unpleasant odor he and Makoto had noticed before would be better than that roast-garbage stench.

*How DID she notice it, anyway? Senshi or not, Mako-chan's nose isn't any better than the average human's, and Mina-chan didn't pick it up at all.* Artemis turned a corner, and all thoughts of Makoto's sudden olfactory proficiency flew from his mind. *Hello, what's this?*

Several large pods of that creepy green substance were scattered about the kitchen. Artemis' ground-level perspective had hidden most of them from view behind countertops and shelves when he had come in through what was left of the back door, but three of the things lay directly in front of him, glowing faintly. The white cat's eyes narrowed as he noticed the rootlike cables linking those three pods to each other and to a larger, thicker cable which went straight up through the hole that had been a ceiling. More of that faint light was pulsing up the cable.

*Now where have I seen THIS before?* Artemis bounded up to the nearest of the pods, considered its shape for a moment, and then extended his claws to scratch at one area. The rubbery matter didn't come away easily, but Artemis kept at it until he had successfully revealed a dull, staring eye, surrounded by flesh which was looking decidedly grey and unhealthy. The small patch quickly resealed itself, but Artemis had seen enough.

Now he just had to get word to the girls.

Thunder cracked sharply overhead, and a large, feebly twitching length of green mung hit the tiles just behind Artemis, its severed end black, smoking, and hissing with faint sparks of electricity. A split second later, a curtain of sizzling red beams tore up the ground beyond the shattered doorframe, and something higher up exploded. Artemis sighed.

*Right. NO pressure.*

***MILLENNIALS***

The Senshi were not having one of their better showings against the bloated fungus monster. For every tendril that Mars and Jupiter sheared off with their attacks, two more sprouted from the rubbery surface; each time Venus blasted out one of the glowing, energy-shooting beads, its neighbors retaliated by laying down a volley of hissing red beams, tearing up another sizable piece of the local real estate. Whether they were eyes or not, the creature had enough of those beady growths to make it impossible to tell whether Venus was making any progress in removing them—and the losses did not impair the orb-thing's ability to track and shoot at the Senshi in the slightest.

Mercury hung back from the fight, trying to locate a weakness in this peculiar foe, but it displayed the same decentralized nature as the appliance-wielding house-buster had. Given the fact that it was at least ten times larger than its predecessor—too large by far for any of her attacks to have any hope of disabling the thing—and regenerating from any damage they did almost as quickly as it happened, Mercury seriously doubted that they could keep on throwing full-force attacks in the hopes of doing enough damage to shut the thing down. Already, Mars and Jupiter were showing signs of fatigue from launching multiple assaults in rapid succession, and Venus wasn't far behind. They were getting weaker, and the enemy was getting stronger. It was just a matter of time.

Her computer had picked up something a moment ago, a flow of energy heading into the hovering orb rather than out of it, something coming from somewhere below instead of from one of the dodging Senshi, but she couldn't get a clear view as to what...

"Mercury! Psst! Over here!"

"Artemis?" The white cat was hiding across the roof, behind a low, smoldering mass of bricks that had been the top part of a stairwell until a few minutes before.

"Keep your voice down! We don't want to attract that thing's attention." Artemis cast a worried glance around the edge of the rubble to make sure that a barrage of red death wasn't already on its way. "Good. Now listen. I managed to get a look inside what's left of the Cafe. The staff have all been wrapped up in pods of some kind, and they're all feeding energy into our friend there through a central cord. It links up into the body somewhere underneath."

"That would explain how it's so much stronger than the last one," Mercury admitted. "If we could cut that cord, the loss of power might weaken it enough for us to finish off."

"Only problem is that somebody's got to get close enough to see which of those is the real cord."

"Maybe not," Mercury disagreed. "If that cord is coming up from the Cafe, then all we need to do to hit it is..." She switched on her communicator. "Jupiter!"

"I'm a little busy," Jupiter replied tersely. She sounded as if she were speaking through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"Artemis found out where this thing is getting all its energy, and I think I know how we can take it out. Listen carefully." Mercury quickly outlined her plan.

"Are you sure that's going to work?" Jupiter asked uncertainly. "This thing's soaking up our best tricks like a sponge in water."

"Then there's not much point in wearing ourselves out so quickly, is there? Just be ready." Mercury put away her computer and got to her feet, taking a deep breath. "Here goes nothing. SHABON SPRAY!"

The air between the green menace and the shattered hulk of the Cafe filled with blue-white mist. Some of the bead-tipped tendrils paused their attack to turn and look down at the phenomenon, while a few others turned to seek out the source of the bubbling spray, but Mercury had already moved to a roof across the street.

"SHABON SPRAY!" The mist thickened, and then again when Mercury repeated the attack, from a rooftop opposite to the one she had started on. She was en route to the fourth and last stop in her little circuit when the roof upon which she had intended to land exploded in a shower of burning red rain; apparently, the orb-creature had guessed something of her game. Mercury shrugged, turned at the waist in mid-air, and let loose a fourth spray. By now, the air below the creature was so thick with fog as to almost be pure liquid. As she fell, Mercury shouted out, "Jupiter! NOW!"

On the other side of the street, Jupiter took a deep breath of her own. "This had better work," she muttered tiredly. "SUPREME THUNDER!"

The saturated fogbank lit up in a curious and beautiful display not unlike a cross between the Aurora Borealis and a fireworks convention—the latter effect coming from several dozen sudden explosions as the water-soaked tendrils in the fogbank overloaded on electrical current and burst asunder. Except for the smell, it was quite pretty.

None of the Senshi actually saw the power cord break, but the effect was immediately visible when the huge orb began to shrink, its eyelike growths closing up by the dozen while those tendrils which had not been splattered by the electrical surge retreated within the body. The orb also began to descend as it shrank, a few remaining tendrils lashing feebly at the air as if the thing were trying to hold itself up.

Venus finally found what was left of the thing, a green, soccer-ball sized mass with no tendrils at all and hardly any of its reddish glow. She considered the thing for a moment, then broke into a smile.

"Jupiter? Mars?" Venus smiled impishly and hefted the orb in both hands. "Do you think you've got enough left for a little target practice?"

The two Senshi traded glances, then broke into matching evil grins.

"On three," Venus said, dropping the orb. "One... two... three!" Venus sent the thing flying high overhead with a single kick, achieving a trajectory that NASA would have killed for.

Suffice to say, the "ball" burned up on re-entry.

***MILLENNIALS***

In the dim, fungus-overgrown computer room of the call center, two more bodies had been added to the creeping entity's collection. All of them were now bound in thick webs and cocoons of green organic matter, mercifully unconscious, their energy serving to sustain the bizarre creature which had captured them.

The creature in question had just picked up a disturbing signal from a kindred entity. It had not been from one of the trap sites that the awareness had been instructed to build, fortunately; eight such units were now in development, and none of them would be ready for many days yet. No, the signal had been from an energy-collector. Its loss meant a disruption in other parts of the greater plan.

The awareness had grown considerably since its arrival. No longer was it a mere mindless drone, reliant on preprogrammed objectives and limitations. By feeding on the energy of its captives, it had gained a kind of sentience, and with its increasing awareness had come access to knowledge that, previously, had been locked away within itself. Now that it was wise enough to use that knowledge, the information had been unlocked and placed at the awareness' disposal.

Its own assigned task was an important one, but only one such mission among several now in progress. The loss of the collector would delay some of those missions considerably, while others—such as the creation of the testing sites—were only peripherally affected.

Still, the awareness decided to take a slower, more cautious approach from now on. The collector had moved too fast, too soon, carelessly revealing itself before sufficient defenses had been in place.

With that in mind, the awareness considered the problem of the captured humans. It could not release them. To do so would deprive it of much-needed energy, quite likely forcing it to revert back to its original mindless state to conserve power. Sentience was a luxury it did not wish to give up, but keeping the humans would also pose a problem, as sooner or later, someone would come looking for them. And the problem of the disabled communications systems would also have to be addressed.

The awareness looked at what information it had about the collector's mission. It did not amount to much, but there was enough to give the awareness an idea which might allow it to retain the better part of its newfound intelligence while dealing with the problems of both humans and phonelines. After several hours of preparation, the awareness slowly ordered one of its pods to open.

The man who emerged was one of the workers it had captured the first night, a man named Hiroshi. He emerged from the pod with a dull-eyed expression, a small, star-shaped growth fixed just below his left ear. The awareness sent a command, and Hiroshi tottered unsteadily towards the door. A camera watch his uneven progress, its green-wrapped lens serving as an eye for the entity pulling Hiroshi's strings.

That would not do, the awareness decided. Movement, appearance, speech, attitude—EVERYTHING must be as close to real as possible to avoid rousing suspicion. It reversed the flow of information, drawing memories out of Hiroshi's brain and studying the man's entire life in detail. Finally, it tried again, sending a much more detailed set of instructions, and carefully scrutinizing the resulting motion.

Much better, the awareness noted with satisfaction. It stopped for a moment to analyze that emotion, one of the first it had ever had. Very interesting, it decided. Perhaps absorbing the human's memories had contributed to the sudden development.

It was not long before another pod opened, releasing a second enslaved human, and in short order, the entire group had been sent on their way. Now hiding themselves by a careful change in their outer surface color and texture, the tiny control devices would allow the awareness to send or receive information and energy so long as the humans remained within a certain distance. As it grew, its range and capabilities would also grow.

The awareness felt another surge of satisfaction. Its sphere of influence and ability had just been expanded five, ten, perhaps even a hundredfold. The addition of the memories of its new servants had increased the limits of its intellect to an astonishing new level, and the workings of this new mind amazed itself; already, ways in which to adjust and improve its plans were occurring to it, things it would never have thought of without the addition of the unique perspective of humans.

The green, vegetative matter strung between and around the computer terminals began to fold in on itself and slither out of sight, sinking into every space and hideaway it could find, altering color where necessary, doing everything possible to escape notice. It altered its connections to the computers, using the gathered knowledge of the humans to affect repairs. In a few minutes, the machines were working better than they had before— and they were entirely under the control of...

*I need a name,* the awareness thought. *Something suitable.*

A memory from one of the humans pushed forward, a story heard once in school, a legend of a god-creature which could change its form at will. A thing repulsive to humans in its natural shape, yet able to move about and be almost undetectable in other forms.

*Yes,* the awareness decided. *That is me. I am Proteus.*

***MILLENNIALS***

Seven people met in a dark room.

It might have been dark outside, or it might have been high noon on a cloudless day; in this room, without windows or clocks or any other links to the outside world, time tended to lose its meaning. The only illumination here came from seven small monitors built into the top of a circular table, about which seven seats were evenly spaced. This was a room custom-built for secrets, and the element of anonymity afforded by the shadows was central to its design. The darkness hid those who dealt in secrets, gave them a sense of power and security that was essential when one stopped to consider the nature of the reports that passed through this room.

Of course, the omnipresent gloom made the actual _reading_ of those reports a bitch and a half, but then you can't have everything.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a male voice said, speaking from the head of the table. "I apologize for having to call you together again, but as I'm sure you're all aware by now, our respite seems to be over."

"That's one way of putting it," a dry, female voice observed from the left side of the table. "Nothing personal, but I would have been just as happy never to see any of you again." The woman paused. "Not that I can actually see any of you now, but..."

"We understand completely," the first voice replied. "We all feel the same way."

"Are you talking about the attacks," a second male voice observed from the right side of the table, "or the ongoing lack of decent lights in this place?"

"I was trying to remember what it was I didn't like about you," a third man said in a gloomy tone from the other side of the table. "Now I do. But that didn't quite sound like one of your usual snide witticisms. Are you not feeling well?"

"Just a little out of practice," the second man replied. "Give me a couple of weeks to hone my edge back up to par, and you'll never notice the difference. So, do we have a complete field report yet? I've been out of the loop for the last little while."

"We do." This was another woman, speaking from the far end of the right- hand row of seats in a cool and controlled voice with all the emotional output of a rock.

"Two sites have been hit so far," the gloomy man reported. "Two that we know of, at least, and given the amount of property damage involved, I'd imagine we would have heard about any others by this time. Despite the collateral destruction, no casualties have been reported." The man's dreary tone made it difficult to tell whether he considered the lack of casualties a good or a bad thing.

"What I want to know," a harsh male voice demanded from the left side of the table, "is why my people weren't alerted to these latest attacks until after the fact. If this new detection system is everything you've been saying it is, I could have had a response team on-site within five minutes after the fact."

"For one thing," the chilly female voice replied, "the detection system isn't in place yet. We were told to refocus our efforts in development four months ago, and the sensor network was effectively abandoned until today. It won't be operational for at least a week, and even then, the range is likely to be limited."

"And besides which," Dry Voice added, "if I read the report right, five minutes after the fact would have gotten your people to either site just in time to see the Senshi reduce the perpetrator to dust."

"Then we could have dragged those pesky girls in as well," Harsh Voice muttered. "Damned vigilantes are a bunch of loose cannons."

"We still don't know WHAT they are," Cool Voice disagreed, "and in all honesty, I have to say that 'dragging them in,' as you put it, is an incredibly stupid idea. It smacks of ingratitude, if nothing else."

"Is that the protest of a fan I hear?" the curious, joking fellow said in amusement.

"Hardly. I'm merely attempting to point out that the Senshi have been dealing with these creatures with a fairly high degree of success for longer than we've been in operation. I'm not particularly at ease with so many questions about them going unanswered, but I can live with mild curiosity if the alternative is a public relations fiasco."

"WHAT public relations?" Harsh Voice snapped. "Nobody even knows we're here!"

"And how long will our anonymity last if people start seeing unknown soldiers with high-tech weaponry running loose?" Cool Voice retorted. "Or even better— suppose you actually managed to capture one of the Senshi. How long do you think it would take the rest of them to come looking for their friend?"

"It wouldn't be an issue if we caught them all at one time."

"Tell me something," Curious Voice asked his colleague. "Are you this foolishly obsessive by nature, or do you have to work at it? I'll spell it out if you're having trouble with the concept; we don't WANT to capture the Senshi, because right now, we don't have the means to pull it off, OR to reliably replace the protection their presence has given the city."

"And even if such means should become available in the future," First Voice interrupted, "the only eventuality under which they would be deployed would be if the Senshi themselves were determined to be a threat. So far, there's been no evidence of that."

"I don't know if I'd go quite that far," the seventh and last member of the shadow committee, another man, said mildly. "We know only slightly more about the Senshi than we do their adversaries, and drawing conclusions about either side could still be premature."

"Which seems to bring us back to paradox at hand," Curious Voice sighed. "We can't get more information until we ask questions, but we can't ask questions without more information."

"It remains a point for another time," First Voice said in a tone of finality. "Our main focus for now is on these intruders. The report on the second attack is quite complete; the creature behind it was using the cafe in question as a front for a Class-E operation. Medical analysis of the victims confirmed the usual symptoms of prolonged systemic depletion, correct?"

"In varying degrees, depending on the individual," Cool Voice said. "There were traces of a chemical compound not on record, something which seems to be part sedative and part hallucinogen, and several of the staff were also found to have minor scarring below either ear. My best guess as to the source would be neural override devices of some sort."

"Do we have anything like that?" Curious Voice interrupted.

"For lab mice and a few lower order primates, yes, but nothing that works on humans. Which is probably just as well."

"So in general," First Voice continued, "a standard energy-collecting operation. The question that concerns me now is what the first entity was up to."

"Blowing up houses is nothing out of the ordinary," Dull Voice said, "but I do admit to a certain curiosity as to why, out of all the buildings in the city, those particular homes were targeted."

"The owners of the first house described the creature in some detail," Cool Voice said. "From their account, it appeared out of nowhere, broke its way out of their house, and seemed to be searching for something until the Senshi attacked it. The damage to the second house could have been incidental, a result of the battle."

"Why do I get the feeling that you don't believe that?" Dry Voice prompted.

"Another report that came to my attention this afternoon has raised questions about one of the people in the second home at the time of the attack," Cool Voice replied. "Nothing I can confirm yet, but I have people looking into the matter."

"Does this 'matter' have a name?"

"Meiou Setsuna."

***MILLENNIALS***

Setsuna awoke with a start. It was not dark, but for a moment, she was not sure where she was; then the steady sound of breathing—someone else's—reminded her. The hospital. And the other person in the room was Usagi, asleep in one of the chairs. The other Senshi had gone to pick up Setsuna's things for transport to the Tsukino household, and to help Ami and her mother pack up for their own forced move.

In the chair, Usagi shifted in her sleep, making an odd sound that made Setsuna smile and then grimace as she tried not to yawn. That had been why she fell asleep in the first place, she remembered now; Usagi had dozed off in the chair, and Setsuna, laying in the bed and watching that peaceful, contented expression while listening to those rhythmic, soothing sounds of breathing, had been lulled into sleep herself.

She yawned anyway, but instead of leaning back and letting herself drift off again, Setsuna pushed back the blankets and got out of bed. She was still very tired, but she'd also been lying down for most of the day, and her back and legs were complaining about it too much for her to sleep just yet. She walked about the room slowly and quietly to avoid waking Usagi. There wasn't all that much space, so she soon ended up standing next to the window, looking out at the city. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was in the process of sinking behind the skyscrapers and rooftops and the distant horizon, setting the sky ablaze. One or two very bright stars hung in the darkening eastern sky, and many tinier stars were winking into life on the ground, headlights and streetlights and lamps.

*Is this home?* Setsuna wondered. Nothing was familiar, and in fact, the longer she looked at it, the more the sheer size of the city became obvious. *So many people. So many strangers.* Setsuna shivered, folding her arms as she did so— partly to ward off the chill, and partly to keep her hands confined. The thought of moving among so many people, of accidentally brushing into someone and suddenly learning everything about them, was frightening. No, this huge city was not—could never be—home. Not to her.

*But if not the entire city, what about just a part of it?* Setsuna's eyes turned away from the window to regard Usagi, snoozing soundly in her chair. *This half-grown girl, already a warrior and a mother-to-be, a friend who is but should not be a stranger—could her home be my home? Can I control this 'gift' well enough to live with her family?*

*Do I even want to?*

***MILLENNIALS***

Haruka wondered idly if there was a way to get away with strangling offensive airline personnel. Whether there was or not, she was about five minutes away from taking her chances with the police.

*If I could just be sure there was a security camera around here recording this little weasel's comments,* she thought. *No jury on Earth would convict after seeing the way he acts.*

The weasel in question was one of those mean-spirited people that swims up from the shallow end of the gene pool every so often, the small-minded, self- important sorts who enjoy going out of their way to make life as difficult as possible for everyone else. At this time—January 5th, 10:32pm, local—and place—Berlin, Germany—he was devoting his attention to a scheduling conflict which had arisen after some last-minute changes Haruka and Michiru had made to their travel plans.

They had originally purchased tickets for a transcontinental flight back to Tokyo from Rome, with several extended layovers in various cities along the way; for all her cultured grace and aristocratic manner, Michiru had the compulsive flash photography instincts of a tourist. Ordinarily, they would have spent two or three weeks getting home, and filled several rolls of film along the way.

But Usagi's little New Year's call had thrown all their plans out the window. Haruka had delayed telling Michiru until the day after the concert, just to make sure she'd caught up on her sleep.

Michiru, Haruka reminded herself for perhaps the hundredth time, did not appreciate being left out of the loop, even for the most well-intentioned of reasons, and she had expressed that displeasure in terms of volume, vocabulary, and visual aid.

The only thing that had spared Haruka from hours of being on the end of suspicious, hard, and icy blue-eyed looks was the fact that Hotaru had overheard them arguing and gone all wide-eyed and scared at the news that something bad had happened to Setsuna. Michiru had spent the afternoon calming the Senshi of Destruction down while Haruka made the necessary calls to the travel agent. All things considered, finding a flight in the right direction with next to no advance notice had been no small miracle.

"Everything's been taken care of," the man had told her.

This message had obviously not reached the officious Napoleon complex lurking behind the desk. Or maybe it had, and he was ignoring it; either way, Haruka's patience was just about maxed out. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"I know we were scheduled for a flight to Istanbul on the 8th, but there was an emergency at home, so we changed to yesterday's flight HERE, and we're supposed to go on to Moscow tonight."

"And I tell you again, there is nein record of tickets issued to either 'Tennou Haruka' or 'Kaioh Michiru' for this flight." Maybe it was his mix of bad Japanese and native German accents that made the fellow so annoying. Haruka could have spoken English and at least heard two modes of speech from the same linguistic family being mangled together, but she tended to lose her grip on the language when she was irritated, and so this discussion/argument/imminent homicide was sounding like a badly dubbed feature film—one in which the principle characters had been given no-talent voice actors, while the supporting cast continued to speak their native tongue.

"Is there a problem here?" a voice asked in absolutely flawless Japanese. Haruka looked away from the source of her annoyance to another airline employee, a man who seemed to be the definition of the word 'average.' Average height, average build, average facial features; not much about him stood out, but at least he could keep two languages separate when he spoke.

"A scheduling conflict," the offensive fellow said immediately. "There is nein record of the tickets she claims..."

"May I?" The average fellow leaned towards the computer, politely elbowing the other man aside while he checked something. "Tennou Haruka, is it? Let me see... ah. Here it is. Flight 412, leaving from Gate 4 in twenty-nine minutes. Two day layover in Moscow, but after that... there." The man entered something into the computer, retrieved the tickets and placed them in a brochure with the full trip schedule and several other helpful notes in it, then handed the whole thing over to Haruka. "Sorry about the delay, Tennou-san. All the arrangements have been made and reconfirmed clear to Tokyo, so you won't have any further problems. Is there anything else you'll require?"

"No, thank you." The average fellow nodded, wished her a pleasant trip, and returned to his place behind the other counter. Haruka resisted the urge to smirk at her adversary as she returned to sit next to Michiru and Hotaru.

"How'd it go?" Michiru asked.

"Not well at first. That little pest must be either half-youma or just plain incompetent; the other fellow straightened things out in about ten seconds." She held up the tickets. "Three seats, all the way to Tokyo."

"There are four tickets," Michiru politely pointed out. Haruka blinked.

"What the... now why did he..."

"May I see your tickets, please?" a juvenile, purposely high-pitched, and frighteningly familiar voice asked from behind them. Hotaru spun around, kneeling on her seat, to get a good look at the speaker.

"ChibiUsa!" she squealed in delight.

"Hotaru!" the pink-haired time-traveler replied with a perfectly mimicked squeal. While the two friends embraced, Haruka and Michiru looked at each other. The girl had grown noticeably since her last visit, and she looked more like her mother than ever. A LOT more, the two Outer Senshi thought. The word 'uncanny' didn't do the resemblance justice.

"Welcome back," Michiru said, forcing a smile. "You're looking... um..." Michiru paused, at a loss for the right words.

"Older?" ChibiUsa supplied, grinning in a way that made Haruka's jaw twitch. Usagi had been throwing a carbon-copy of that smile around for as long as they'd known her.

*One's bad enough on her own,* Haruka thought nervously. *Kamis help us all with TWO of them on the loose.*

"I get the feeling it's been longer than six months for you," Hotaru said. ChibiUsa nodded.

"I'm almost thirteen now. After I got home from the last time, Mama decided it might be time to start with those 'princess things' she said Luna used to shove down her throat." She made a face.

"Bad?" Hotaru asked sympathetically.

"Being stuck in a room with Luna AND Mercury AND Mars trading you back and forth like a volleyball for six hours each day is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. At least Venus and Jupiter know how to have fun while they teach something." ChibUsa looked around curiously. "So, where's Pu? She said she'd meet me here."

"She said..." Haruka began.

"...she'd meet you here." Michiru finished. Both of them were rather proud of the fact that they'd managed to get the words out in a normal tone of voice. ChibiUsa looked at them oddly.

"Yes," she said slowly, "she did."

"Could you explain that?" Haruka asked, getting another odd look.

"What's there to explain?"

"Just humor me."

"Okay," ChibiUsa said, shaking her head. "I got the idea to come back and visit Hotaru-chan for her birthday a few days ago. I asked Mama if it would be okay, and she said that whether she said it was okay or not, I'd end up going anyway." She made another face, more frustrated than disgusted. "Do you have any idea how strange it can be trying to ask something of somebody who already knows what the answer is going to be?"

"Other than Pu?" Hotaru asked with a smile.

"Especially other than Pu. You _expect_ her to be like that, but when it's somebody like Mama..." ChibiUsa shivered. "It's a lot creepier because you're not ready for it. Anyway, when I got to the Time Gate, I talked with Pu for a while, she told me where to find you, and she said she'd be on the other side when I got here. I thought she meant she'd be with you. Is she somewhere else?"

"Setsuna's in Tokyo," Michiru said. "Usagi called us on New Year's Eve to say she'd shown up rather unexpectedly."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'd better get a ticket, then."

"We've already got one," Haruka said, trying not to scowl when she got yet another of those odd looks thrown her way.

"Did you KNOW I was going to be here?" ChibiUsa asked suspiciously.

"Didn't have a clue," Haruka replied. "Was there ANYTHING strange about Pluto when you talked to her this time?"

"Strange? No more than she usually is." ChibiUsa paused, frowning. "She _was_ talking with someone else when I arrived, though, which is pretty odd since not too many people can get to the Time Gate in the first place, and Pu usually runs off most of the ones who actually make it. Will one of you tell me what's going on? You've all been acting weird since I mentioned Pu."

"In a minute," Michiru promised. "But this person you said she was talking to; did you recognize them? Did they say anything to you?"

"No and no. It was a man, sort of odd-looking. Pu said something to him when she saw me, and he just sort of nodded and walked off. I asked, and she just said he was a traveler who'd gotten a little lost."

"Odd-looking?" Haruka pressed. "How so?"

"Well, he wasn't ugly, but he wasn't particularly handsome either. When you get right down to it, he wasn't much of anything, and what I thought was really strange was that he didn't have any machinery or equipment that could have created a time portal. He looked like he was wearing a flight attendant's uniform." An image clicked in Haruka's mind.

"Medium height?" she asked quickly. "Medium build? Greyish hair and eyes, sort of a tan but not tanned skin tone? Looked like he could disappear into a crowd?"

"That's him," ChibiUsa said immediately. "Do you know him?"

"He gave me the tickets," Haruka said dryly. "He's right over... there?" She looked from one end of the service counter to the other; there were three people behind it other than the annoying little worm on the far end, and none of them were the helpful Joe Average. "Hold these for a minute," she said, handing the tickets to Michiru before walking up to speak to one of the other airline employees. After a short conversation, she returned, looking thoroughly disgusted.

"He's not here," Michiru said. It wasn't a question.

"Nobody by that description is currently working this shift in any capacity." Haruka sat down, her head tilted back to study the ceiling for a time.

"Will somebody PLEASE tell me what's going on?" ChibiUsa asked, the first pouty beginnings of a world-class whine in her voice.

"Kid," Haruka replied wearily, "I haven't got the slightest clue."

And she meant every single word.

***SAILOR SAYS***

**Minako**: Hi there! Usagi's busy trying to track down the writer just now...

_(Cut to a shot of Usagi, walking around with a huge magnifying glass sort of device strapped to her face and a backpack that sprouts tracking equipment and sensor antennae like a rosebush does thorns strapped to her back, intently following a trail of footprints only to get totally sidetracked by a box of donuts in her path)_

**Minako**: ...something about leaving a door open in winter, I think she said, so I get to do today's moral! _(bats her eyelashes)_ Isn't that just perfect?

**Artemis**: I could think of a few other words that might work better.

**Minako** _(sweetly)_: Did you want to get fed tonight, buster? Yes? Then butter your lip.

**Artemis** _(snapping a salute)_: Ya vol!_ (Goose-steps off the screen) _

**Minako**: He'll do anything for tuna. Now where was I? Oh, right. Today's moral is one all Senshi already know and live by: Don't get Mako-chan angry. _(stops and thinks for a moment)_ Actually, I could say the same thing about Rei-chan, too. And Haruka, for that matter. Or Hotaru, or... _(stops and counts off names on her fingers)_ ...well, just about everybody, really. I have to say, it's not easy working with a bunch of people with such a scary combination of short tempers and potential for raw destruction. Makoto and Rei—especially where Usagi is concerned—can get mad at the top of a hat, and the fact that neither of them can get hold of a steady boyfriend really isn't helping.

_(As Minako talks, Rei and Makoto begin to loom ominously behind her)_

**Minako** _(blithely unaware of the towering presences behind her)_: I mean, come ON! If our shy little Ami-chan can find time for romance, what's stopping THOSE two from finding somebody special? Mako-chan at least is looking, even if she does have this senpai complex to get over, but Rei-chan's got this cute guy who's totally devoted to her, and she doesn't even seem to notice him! Oh sure, she's kissed him a couple of times, but have you noticed that it's always just after he's been knocked out by a monster? Where's the fun in that? Honestly, I'm starting to lose hope for these two. I may be the appointed representative of the Goddess of Love, but even I've got my limits—and I've spent so much time trying to get both Rei-chan and Mako-chan hooked up with SOMEBODY that I can't even spend any time looking for a boyfriend myself! I ask you, is that fair? Is that... _(finally notices her 'friends,' and goes white)_ Eeep. Um... hi, guys.

**Rei** _(looks at the camera)_: You. _(indicates with her thumb)_ Out.

_(The camera sweatdrops and then quickly pans to the left. Rei and Makoto are rolling up their sleeves the last we see of them. Ami and Setsuna slide into the picture, looking towards the right and wincing)_

**Setsuna**: That's got to hurt.

**Ami**: Not as much as THAT.

(Usagi walks by, following a trail of powdered sugar donuts)

**Ami**: What are you doing?

**Usagi** _(mouth full of half-eaten donut)_: Can you believe it? Shomebody jusht left all theesh donutsh lying around.

(Ami and Setsuna watch in amazement as Usagi follows the trail to its end, a double-glazed chocolate donut which, after drooling for a moment, she reaches for. The wire attached to the bottom of the donut pulls taut, and Usagi is still looking at IT in amazement when a huge, open-end-down box falls on her from above. The writer glances in from the side)

**the Judge**: Did it work?

**Ami**: It worked. But do you REALLY think it was necessary?

**the Judge**: You've never tried to fight this girl. And besides, she kept trying to steal a look at my notes. There are some things I don't share with ANYBODY until the next episode.

**Setsuna**: Speaking of notes, who are those shadowy people in the dark room? And who sold me out to them?

**Haruka** _(leaning in from the left)_: And who is that flight attendant guy?

**the Judge** _(frowns)_: Weren't you people listening? NO PREVIEWS. Anyway, I've got to... _(glances over to the right and gets a horrified look on his face)_ I think maybe I'd better put a stop to that before I lose my PG rating. _(walks off- camera)_ Makoto, Rei, a word? Look, I know you're upset about not having boyfriends, but that's no... Hey! Ouch! Stop that! Not the face! Not the face!

**Setsuna**: Aren't writers supposed to be omniscient?

**Ami**: Apparently not, or he would have known not to say that.

**Usagi** _(still in the box)_: Somebody let me out of here!

**Setsuna** _(to Ami and Haruka)_: Should we?

**Haruka** _(sitting casually on the box)_: Nah.

**Usagi**: Hey!

05/15/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Word to the wise—NEVER leave your backup disks lying around where your well-intentioned but functionally computer-illiterate father can 'accidentally' erase every file on them while trying to reboot your computer after it's just crashed for the fourth friggin' time...

Some of you have been paying attention may have noticed a chronological inconsistency in Episode One—namely, that it cannot be midnight in Tokyo and New York at the same time. I'm not sure how it slipped by me, but I have gone back and made the necessary adjustments; I also took the opportunity to clean up the first two episodes somewhat. However, since I intend to modify this mess-in-progress as it gets larger, and because most websites give you a limited number of chances to correct already on-line work, the corrected versions likely won't be up for a while.

Anyhoo... up next time:  
-Forging valiantly ahead, hopefully into at least February!  
-More dark and twisted threads in a dark and twisted plot from a dark and twisted mind;  
-And one heck of a head-on collision at the airport...

One other thing: my email's been screwed up and recently changed, so if you're the kind of person who enjoys writing to authors, take note—because I usually do respond to any email I get.


	4. Chapter 4

Makoto shifted the grocery bags in her arms as she climbed the steps to the front door of her apartment. Not because the bags were heavy, by any means, but because she needed to be able to use one hand to get the door open.

Normally this wouldn't have been a problem. She bought groceries once a week, one bag of whatever she currently needed to restock her shelves and refrigerator. The fact that Makoto ate more than most girls her age who weren't Usagi tended to be canceled out by the fact that she lived alone, and although she cooked a great deal, she could also stretch one well-prepared meal for three or four into several meals for one person.

Having Ami as a houseguest hadn't _quite_ doubled the rate at which Makoto's fridge emptied out, but the increase was still there, and after five days, the fridge was showing signs of depletion sooner than it normally would—and the pantry as well.

That wasn't the only thing that had changed. Makoto had always kept her apartment in a state of perpetual neatness: anything not currently in use was put away in a closet or drawer or up on a shelf; dust, grime, or mildew were forbidden; dishes and laundry were cleaned with military precision. The only dirt of any kind tolerated beyond the door was the packed soil which kept Makoto's collection of potted plants alive, and even _that_ was spared only so long as it stayed inside the various clay and plastic pots. The plants themselves had things fairly good, living first in the fresh air on the balcony during the summer, and then scattered around the apartment 's central room, with its large, canopy-like window providing ample sunlight during the winter months. Everything was where it should be, out of the way but within easy reach if needed.

Knowing Ami to be inclined towards neat organization herself, Makoto had anticipated no real problems in having her as a roommate, and in all honesty, the first night had gone well enough. Ami had arrived late Saturday afternoon with a pair of suitcases and a few books in her backpack, and Makoto had helped her rearrange the side room she usually used—or not—as a study into something that resembled a bedroom, with a mattress provided by Rei from the storerooms at Hikawa. Minako had provided a lot of garbled but enthusiastic vocal support and very little in the way of physical aid. Ami had not seemed to mind sleeping in a room full of books —or half-full, since Makoto didn't really read all that much—and after supper, they had both really been too tired to do anything except go to sleep. Makoto had drifted off thinking how strange it felt to have someone else living under the same roof again.

The next day had not gone so well. They both slept late and woke with the dull-eyed grouchiness that oversleeping occasionally creates, which had not helped matters when they returned to the Mizuno household—cordoned-off behind lines of police tape—to meet Ami's mother and the team of movers she had hired to help get everything that was still intact out of the house before weather or thieves got to it. Mizuno-san was taking some things with her to the apartment where she would be staying, and most of the surviving furniture was destined for storage; beyond a medium-sized dresser which fit quite neatly into her room at Makoto's, Ami had brought mostly books.

Not just five or ten books, though. Boxes of books. An army of books, most of them belonging to either the large, hardcover reference variety or the many-paged paperback variety. So many books that Makoto wondered where they were going to find room for them all. There had been enough shelf space in the converted study for the contents of two of those boxes; six more were currently parked in the living room because no other room had enough extra space for them, and their presence was giving the apartment a vague, transitory kind of atmosphere which gnawed at Makoto's sense of neatness.

There were other things, too. Little things like how the laundry hamper had suddenly filled up, and how Ami sometimes spoke aloud when she read some of those piled-up books. How the increase in water consumption meant that there was seldom any hot water left, or how objects seemed to mysteriously re-arrange themselves whenever Ami passed through a room.

Still, Makoto refused to let it bother her. Ami was a guest, and a friend besides. She did her share of the chores and had insisted on helping pay for the food as well. And as long as Makoto actually did some thinking for herself, Ami gladly helped her out with her homework.

*Now, if I could just get her to stop trying to alphabetize my cookbooks,* Makoto thought, leaning down slightly to get at the doorknob without dropping one or both of the grocery bags.

"Do you need a hand?" a familiar voice asked.

"I'd take a foot if I thought it would help," she replied, turning to see Urawa Ryo regarding her with some amusement and a bookbag slung over one shoulder. "What brings you here?"

"Actually, I was hoping that a certain beautiful, brilliant, blue-eyed lady of our mutual acquaintance might be in residence."

"That depends," Makoto said. "Are your intentions towards her entirely honorable?"

"Not in the slightest." Ryo leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "I'm actually an extradimensional alien who intends to knock you unconscious and then carry her off to an eternity of sinful decadence and questionable morality."

"Sounds like fun," Makoto answered with a straight face, trying one last time to get the door open before huffing in annoyance and handing one of the shopping bags to Urawa. "Make yourself useful and hold that, O Corrupter of Innocent Maidens. This door likes to freeze up in cold weather."

"But seriously," Ryo said, taking the bag, "is Ami-chan staying with you?" He tapped the side of his head with his free hand. "I saw the two of you, Hino-san, and Mina-chan carrying things out of her house—or what was left of it—and into your place, but it could have meant something else."

"No, she's here." The door opened with a slight cracking sound as the faint skin of built-up ice shattered. "Or she was when I went to the store, at least. Come on in, and watch out for the boxes."

While Ryo closed the door, Makoto leaned partway around the corner to take a glance at the living room. Ami was standing with her back turned, removing books from a box on the table and sorting them into piles. To Makoto's eyes, the factor of size seemed to play a major role in what books went into which pile. Pile A is for all books large enough to crush spiders, Pile B for all books large enough to crush your foot...

Shaking her head as she turned about and kicked off her shoes, Makoto looked at Ryo. "She's in the living room unpacking some things. I can handle the groceries; why don't you go surprise her while I put this stuff away and get some tea ready?"

That triggered a smile, and Ryo walked quietly into the living room, his socked feet making no noise at all. Makoto chuckled softly as she carried the two shopping bags into the kitchen and set them on the counter. She had just plugged in the teapot when a startled shriek and a dull thud—probably caused by a falling book—echoed from the living room, followed closely by Ami's half- shouted, "Don't DO that!" Makoto couldn't hear much of Ryo's reply, but it sounded humble, sincere, and completely unrepentant. She chuckled again and started putting things away, humming faintly to herself to block out the sounds of conversation and give her friends a few minutes of privacy.

When Makoto entered the living room about five minutes later, carrying the teapot and three of her best cups on a tray, Ami and Ryo were sitting on the couch. Makoto might not have a particularly great track record with long-term relationships, but she knew enough to recognize that these two had left the 'talking' stage behind and were now well into the 'holding hands and getting lost in each other's eyes' stage. They didn't notice her approach until she was setting the tea down on the table in front of them and pulling a plush footstool around to sit on, at which point they both started and pulled slightly back from one another, blushing.

"So," Makoto began, ignoring the blushes and pouring the tea, "how was Greece?" She was referring to the trip Ryo's father had sprung for over the winter break.

"Very old, for the most part," he replied, taking a sip of his tea. "But that's what we paid for, I suppose. The New Year's celebration in Athens was certainly something to see; they had the Acropolis all done up with lights, and I've never heard so many people sing so _badly_ together all at once." He laughed. "Poor Dad. He got a little too far into a bottle of ouzo with some of the locals and needed most of the next day to sleep it off. He can handle saki and beer pretty well, but that stuff must have taken him by surprise."

"It all depends on what you're used to, I suppose," Ami said, smiling. Then her tone became wheedling. "Did you bring me anything?"

Ryo blinked and then started to laugh again. "Usagi-chan's been a bad influence, I see. As a matter of fact, I did." He set down his tea and opened the bookbag, pulling out a small disc of orange clay, about as wide across the middle as his hand was long, and not much thicker than a finger. Both faces were covered with a hundred or so small images, arranged in a pattern which spiraled out from the center and was divided into uneven sections. Ami recognized it.

"A Phaistos disc. They unearthed the original on the island of Crete in 1903," she explained, noticing Makoto's lost expression. "It's over 3500 years old, but so far, nobody's been able to figure out what the pictures on it mean."

"I thought you might like it," Ryo said, handing her the disc. "And who knows? Maybe your computer could help you to translate it."

"Maybe. Although," Ami added, rolling her eyes, "knowing our luck, it 'll probably turn out to be some terrible secret that could destroy the world."

"Probably," Ryo agreed. "That would be the... what? Fourth? Fifth time now?"

"I stopped counting." Makoto shook her head. "So how long are you going to be in town for this time, Ryo-kun? Just the night, or long enough for some serious pursuit of that sinful decadence you mentioned before?"

Ami blinked. "What?"

"Uh," Ryo said hesitantly, ignoring Ami's question, "just this evening for now, but I'll be back by the end of the month. Dad's company went through a major audit while we were in Greece, and a fair number of the senior executives were fired—something about insider trading, I think. Anyway, there were a lot of promotions and reassignments to fill the employment gaps, and Dad got transferred back here. We'll be moving as soon as we find a place, and I managed to convince him to register me at Juuban High."

"Really?" Ami exclaimed, sounding almost as excited as Minako or Usagi would have.

"Yes," Ryo laughed, "really. Would I lie to..." He stopped short. To Ami and Makoto, it appeared as if Ryo's eyes zoomed in on something that was simultaneously right under his nose and clear across the room; they recognized the signs of one of his periodic visions, and remained quiet until he blinked again.

"What did you see, Ryo-kun?"

"I'm... I'm not sure," he admitted, sounding puzzled. "Is somebody you know in the hospital, Ami-chan?"

"Yes," she replied. "Setsuna-san." Ami elaborated for Ryo, who had never actually met Setsuna. "Did you see her room at the hospital?"

"I saw _a_ room. Usagi-chan, Hino-san, and Mina-chan were in it, I was standing in the doorway, and I think you and Mako-chan were there, too, but I'm not sure if anybody else was actually in the room." Ryo frowned. So did Ami and Makoto.

" 'Not sure?'" Makoto prompted.

"There was... a blur." Ryo closed his eyes, struggling to recreate the image and explain the problem. "There were two beds in the room, and the one nearest the door seemed to be... twisted, somehow. Warped. Everything around it was blotched and fuzzy; I couldn't tell if there was anyone there or not."

"That first bed is the one Setsuna-san's using," Makoto said. "Is something going to happen to her?"

"I don't think so," Ryo said confidently. "I didn't get any sense of danger, and Usagi-chan and the others didn't seem to be worried at all. I've never seen something like that before, though," he admitted, "so I might be wrong."

"And then again," Ami pointed out, "you might not. Setsuna-san IS the Senshi of Time, after all. Her presence might very well have some sort of discrete warping effect on the space-time continuum that normal human senses can't pick up, but which would register in your visions as that blur." She considered the problem and then rose to her feet. "We should probably get down there. I'd like to take some readings with my computer and see if I can figure this out."

Makoto quickly gathered up the teacups and returned them to the kitchen while Ryo and Ami got their coats and shoes, made sure everything in the apartment was turned off or put away before getting her own coat, then stepped outside, locked the door, and hurried to catch up with her friends. Ami and Ryo were discussing the upcoming term as they walked; Makoto fell in behind them and lapsed into another polite silence.

A short distance down the street, Ryo's hand, moving slowly and somewhat uncertainly, reached out to clasp about Ami's. She paused in the middle of saying something to look down, surprised, and then look up at Ryo, blushing before breaking into a small, shy smile. They didn't say much after that, but neither did they let go of each other's hand.

Behind them, Makoto smiled.

***MILLENNIALS***

"So was he a pegasus with a horn or a unicorn with wings?" Setsuna asked.

The Senshi were using Setsuna's time in the hospital to expound on the short, highly-compressed, and extremely incomplete history Usagi had told her that first night. It was a not-so-small mercy that Setsuna never asked the same question twice, but there were so many things TO question that the whole review was taking forever.

Right now, they were stuck on the problem of Helios, the dream-dwelling horse that they had protected from Nehelenia and her Dead Moon Circus. As Setsuna had explained to Luna, there were still many bits of information in her mind, and now that it was organized—if still frustratingly devoid of details about herself—she could make excellent use of that knowledge. She wasn't sure if she'd read a grimoire in the Middle Ages or had at some point in her forgotten past actually met members of the two species in question, but Setsuna was quite certain that unicorns had horns, but not wings, while pegasi had wings, but not horns. Never mind that THIS one, whichever species it belonged to, had been living in a dream at the time.

"A pegasus," Usagi replied.

"A unicorn," Minako said at the same moment. They glared at each other.

"Actually," Rei interrupted, drawing glares from the two arguing girls, "Helios turned out to be a young man a couple of years older than ChibiUsa was. Or is. Or will be." Rei frowned. "You know what I mean. Anyway, she wasn't clear on whether Helios was a spirit that looked like a boy or an actual boy who lived somewhere else, but he seemed to be connected to Mamoru." Then she paused. "I won't swear to this, but I think ChibiUsa thought he was cute."

"Mamoru or Helios?" Setsuna asked.

"Both," Usagi replied sourly. "She tried to steal Mamo-chan from me the first time she showed up, and things didn't improve all that much even after she knew we were her parents. Although we weren't actually, then. Her parents, that is. I mean, we were, but we... arrrgh!" Usagi groaned, pulling at her hair in frustration. "I HATE this! Where is Ami-chan when I need her?"

"Did someone call?" Ami asked, poking her head through the door curiously.

"Where have you been?" Usagi snapped.

"We're having a problem with the use of proper tenses in regards to fourth-dimensional thinking," Setsuna explained.

"Most people would," Ryo said, appearing to Ami's left and nodding to the other Senshi with a smile. "I know it drives ME up the wall, and I've got more experience with it... than... most..." The words trailed off and Ryo's eyes almost jumped out of his skull when they reached Setsuna, his face turning pale. The Senshi looked on in surprise, and Ami, fearing Ryo might faint, caught his arm.

"Ryo-kun? What's wrong?"

"You," Ryo said in a strangled whisper, looking not at Ami, but past her—to Setsuna, who looked back with an expression of desperate, barely repressed curiosity.

Ryo didn't see the curiosity. Or rather, that wasn't all he saw. Over Setsuna's face, he saw another face, a solid-seeming image that was somehow even more real than the flesh and blood and bone before him, a face that, although he had never seen it before, Ryo's mind clearly identified as belonging to Pluto. And on top of that face, there was a third, somehow fainter. And a fourth. A fifth. Ten, twenty, fifty—too many faces to count, each of them different, some faint mists, others strongly real, and all of them distinctly Setsuna. There was something else about the faces that he couldn't quite put his finger on, an odd, nagging sort of feeling in which part of his brain knew the question, another part knew the answer, and neither were telling the third part anything.

"Have we met?" Setsuna asked, voice reflecting the same intense need in her eyes: the need to learn something, anything about herself. "Do you know me?"

At Setsuna's words, Ryo blinked—and then he blinked again as the multitude of faces wavered and vanished. The sheer shock drained from his own features, becoming mere confusion, and he looked at the Senshi.

"Did ANY of you see that? Tell me you saw it."

"See what?" Minako looked around as if she honestly expected to see something.

"Another vision?" Ami asked.

"No," Ryo said slowly, "not exactly. It hurts like one, though," he added, wincing as a profound and familiar impulse went off in his brain.

"Do you need to sit down?" Usagi asked, getting up out of her chair. Ryo shook his head—slowly—knowing from experience that the headache was in no way related to his physical condition, and would be just as bad sitting down as it was when he was on his feet, but he ended up in the chair anyway.

He suspected Usagi had something to do with that. Turning down a gift from Usagi was very difficult to do; even when you had no use for the thing—such as the small potted plant she had given to Rei on her last birthday—or truly didn't want it —like the limited-issue Sailor V manga she had rather generously given to Ami for HER birthday—you somehow ended up keeping it.

The little flower with its fragile-seeming blossoms was still blooming nicely on a counter beneath the window in Rei's room, despite the fact that Rei typically had about the same effect on plants as a flaming lawnmower;

The Sailor V manga, sealed in the hard plastic cover it had come with, not only rested safely on a shelf in Ami's new room at Makoto's apartment, but had actually been read several times;

And Ryo, puzzling over this curious trend while sitting in the chair, suddenly noticed that his headache was gone.

"Feeling better?" Usagi asked, now sitting on the spare bed.

"Much." Ryo nodded towards her. "Has she started kicking yet?"

"No." Usagi paused. "Will she?"

"I'll let you know if I see anything," Ryo promised. Then he looked around again. "And none of you saw that?"

"If you don't start explaining what 'that' was," Ami said, sounding exasperated, "I'm going to be very cross with you."

"She's not the only one," Makoto added.

"Better make that three," Rei advised.

Minako looked at her friends. "Ah, why not. 'All for one, and one-half off,' as they say."

Ryo was quite sure that this was NOT what they said, but he raised his hands in surrender before Usagi could chip in. "All right, all right; I give up, I'll talk." He began explaining, describing the procession of faces and the half-seen image behind them, but leaving out any mention of the 'odd feeling' he'd had.

It took nearly ten minutes for Ryo to convey what he'd seen in a tenth of a second, which was unusual. He was used to seeing things in a straightforward, 'instant preplay' sort of effect, not abstract visual metaphors overlaying the reality around him; the Senshi, likewise, were used to hearing very precise descriptions, not a perpetual struggle to find the right words. Setsuna actually had the easiest time following what Ryo said, though she appeared vaguely saddened that he could not tell her anything about herself. Ami grasped the concept quite quickly as well, but had a vague feeling that Ryo was leaving something out. She decided not to press the issue; the others were having enough trouble as it was.

"What do you mean by 'layered?'" Usagi finally asked. "Is it sort of like how they do animated films? What I mean is, they draw the background scene and then lay all those plastic sheets with the characters drawn on them over the background. Is it like that?"

"That's almost exactly it," Ryo said, relieved. "Except that there's just the one image, over and over again."

"How did you think of that?" Rei asked Usagi, sounding a little surprised.

"I remembered that time we went to check out the animation class that was helping out with the Sailor V movie, and..."

"Ooh!" Minako squealed, delighted. "You got to see behind the scenes of my movie? Do you have any idea how lucky you were? They wouldn't even let ME in, and I was the star!"

"No you weren't," Usagi objected.

"I was too!" Minako objected right back.

"You aren't even in the movie!"

"I am too!"

"That was Sailor V, not Aino Minako. The character design barely even looks like you, and besides which, you're not Sailor V anymore!"

"Oh yeah?" Minako got to her feet and pulled something out of a pocket. To the Senshi, that 'something' looked like her transformation pen, and indeed, it was—just not the one they were thinking of. *I'll show her,* Minako thought. "MOON POWER TRANSFORM!"

A lightshow that was at once very similar to and yet entirely different from the one that turned Minako into Sailor Venus went into effect, and when it ended, a masked girl wearing a uniform that was very similar to and yet entirely different from Sailor Venus' stood before them, striking a pose.

"HA!" she proclaimed grandly. "The soldier of justice, the sailor-suited beautiful soldier has returned! I am Sailor Venus, Code Name: Sailor V!" *Wow,* she thought, *I haven't done this in years. I'm glad the old pen still works; I'd have looked pretty silly if it... hey, I wonder if I could get it to help me with my homework again? Hmm...*

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Ryo had never heard anyone shout in a whisper before, but he was getting used to Usagi's casual defiance of the laws of physics by now.

"Just proving a point," Minako—pardon, Sailor V—replied casually, checking herself out to see whether or not the old uniform still fit—which it did, one of the benefits of magical clothing being that it ALWAYS fits—before shifting the muscles of her face slightly. "I forgot what wearing this thing was like," she admitted, adjusting her mask.

"Change back before someone sees you!" Usagi ordered her.

"Not until you apologize," Sailor V said, waving one finger chidingly at Usagi. She paused in mid-wave to turn her hand, examining the fit of the glove before pulling out her compact and taking a closer look at what she was wearing. This was definitely Sailor V's uniform, but it had changed in some ways from what she remembered, to the point where it resembled a fusion of her two superheroic identities. The skirt was longer, the shoes were now the same Grecian sandal-type that Venus wore, and the mask was now affixed to a tiara—one with a clear crystal in the center rather than the normal golden gem—almost as if the mask had grown out from the tiara's lower rim. Most interesting was the pattern of slim crescents and the sign of Venus running along the hem of the skirt and the edge of the long collar in gold thread. Two much larger Venus symbols adorned the backs of her gloves, crossed ends pointing forward, and instead of a stone, the bow on the front of her shirt now sprouted from a solid gold representation of that sign. A moment's examination suggested to Sailor V that this gold brooch was intended to hold her compact when her hands were busy.

After an extended examination, one thought went through her head:

*WOW!*

"APOLOGIZE?" Usagi was practically shrieking.

"I can wait all day," Sailor V replied. Brushing out her skirt, she added, "You know, I think I might want to use this outfit the next time there's a fight. I mean, nobody's seen Sailor V in ages, and the manga's really gone downhill over the last year or so; a few authentic Sailor V sightings might be just the thing to cheer up the fans and reinspire the writers, don't you think?"

Usagi's teeth started to grind.

***MILLENNIALS***

"What was that?"

"I'm not sure. The detection system picked up a power spike of some sort."

"How strong?"

"Not very strong at all. Maybe a Level Two reading."

"Hardly worth worrying about, then. All indications are that one of the gateways these critters keep showing up through would generate at least a Level Six reading."

"I dunno. It would've had to be pretty close by for us to pick it up at all, but it didn't last long enough to get a fix on."

"Probably just somebody firing up one of the CAT-scans upstairs or tripping a circuit breaker."

"Maybe, but I think I'll have security make a quick sweep of the building. Just to be on the safe side."

***MILLENNIALS***

Ryo really hadn't meant to stay for dinner, but even if Ami hadn't insisted, Makoto HAD, and she could be just as difficult to refuse as Usagi—though for entirely different reasons.

Which is why he had found himself calling from the hospital to let his folks know he wouldn't be home until later, and why dinnertime found him facing off against a meal that would have been at home in any fancy restaurant he'd ever seen.

The entire evening had the air of a date about it, especially since Makoto had either chosen to skip supper or eat in the kitchen, bringing in the meal like a professional waitress but otherwise leaving Ami and Ryo to themselves; she cooked, served, and cleaned up by herself while putting an abrupt stop to any and all attempts by Ami or Ryo to lend a hand, and after serving tea in the living room for a second time that day, vanished entirely.

*I wonder if Mako-chan's got some sort of surveillance system hooked up in here so she can spy on us from her room,* Ryo wondered, glancing about cautiously for anything that might be a hidden camera.

"I wouldn't put it past her," Ami said. Ryo nearly dropped his tea before he realized that he had spoken that last bit aloud, and the sight of him juggling the cup around set Ami to laughing. He glared at her, and she laughed even more. Sighing, Ryo set the cup down on the table before anything else happened. Ami regarded him curiously.

"Spilling tea on her couch seems like a poor way to repay Mako-chan for everything she did tonight," he explained. "Even if she IS watching us."

"I can find out," Ami said, setting aside her own cup and producing her computer. After a quick sweep of the room, she read off the results. "No cameras, no recording devices other than the VCR, no microphones, and Mako-chan's in her room, two meters from the wall closest to us, which happens to have no holes drilled through it. The radio's on, and I think she's reading something." Ami flipped the computer shut and put it away.

"Well, good. We'll have to think of something nice to do for her."

"Not spilling the tea was a good start," Ami noted, smiling briefly. "Ryo-kun," she began, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

The words every boyfriend dreads. "What about?"

"This afternoon, when you were trying to explain what you saw when you looked at Setsuna-san, I got the feeling that you were leaving something out." Ryo said nothing, and Ami went on. "At first I thought it was just because you were still startled by what you saw, but I noticed you looking at her a few times later on, like there was something you were trying to find. That got me thinking."

"And?" he asked quietly.

"You've met her somewhere before, haven't you?" Ami flinched internally; the words were harsher, more accusing than she'd meant them to be. Still, Ryo seemed not to be too bothered by it.

"I guess I should have known you'd notice," he sighed, sounding almost relieved. "I would have told you at the hospital, but what with trying to explain everything else, it just didn't seem very important. And it's... well, I'm not sure what it is, but it feels sort of personal, somehow."

"Then you have met Setsuna?"

"It's hard to say. I'd swear I've never seen her in my life before today, but there's something... not a memory so much as a feeling of familiarity."

"Has that ever happened to you before?"

"Once. Sort of. But then again, that was Usagi-chan's fault." It was not often that Ryo—or anyone else, for that matter—had the chance to see Ami confused.

"Come again?"

"That time loop she set off," Ryo explained. "I woke up one day with all the visions and memories of the year swimming around in the back of my head like a bad dream. At first I thought it really was just a dream—a very long, very detailed, and very strange dream—so I ignored it. When some of the things that I had 'dreamed' started happening, I figured it must have been another premonition, but when things started to go off in the wrong direction..."

"The 'wrong direction?'" Ami interrupted.

"I kept having the same visions as before, but since there weren't any monsters around, things turned out differently; no mysterious disappearances or unexplained mass fainting spells, no media circus..."

"No uniformed guys ripping crystals out of your chest and turning you into a walking Swiss Army knife?" Ami teased.

"No beautiful heroines in blue coming to my rescue, either," Ryo replied. "The old visions started out strong and got weaker and weaker the more that things changed, but they were still there, AND I was having new premonitions on top of them. It got to the point where I was going through a bottle of aspirin about every other week, and not just because of the visions. I kept meeting people, and I _knew_ them from the first time around, but I couldn't say anything until they'd caught up with me. It drove me nuts for a long time."

"Is that what you felt when you saw Setsuna, then?"

"Sort of the opposite. With the time loop, I knew what I couldn't have known about other people; with her, it's like I don't know what I should." Ryo sighed. "Anyway, by the time I finally transferred to Juuban, I'd figured out what was going on, if not _how_ it had happened. I considered asking you about it, but when I saw that you, Usagi-chan, and Mako-chan apparently didn't know each other, I realized that you couldn't remember. Since I knew that I was going to transfer away in a few days, I decided to just keep quiet." He looked a little embarrassed. "I didn't think it would be fair to you, since the only time I came back the first time around was because Endymion was after me, and since that wasn't going to happen..." His words trailed off. "You know, it's funny, but when you stop to think about it, the black crystal that Zoicite and Endymion used was almost the foundation for our relationship. As much as I hated the thing, we would never have gotten together without it."

"You're here NOW, aren't you?"

"Yes, but even if it is like the crystal never existed, we both remember that it DID, and what happened because of it." This time, Ryo really did look embarrassed. "I don't think I ever would have gotten up the courage to actually talk to you on my own."

"Maybe not, but as I recall, Usagi-chan was trying to fix us up before Zoicite came after you." Ami smiled. "And afterwards, since you already knew everything about us, she was even _more_ determined about it."

"I remember. Well, no sense in worrying now about what _might_ have happened."

"Exactly; it's in the past, and whatever happens in the future, we're together." She said it so determinedly that Ryo had a brief flash of panic; he didn't _quite_ receive a vision of the two of them getting married, but he wouldn't have been surprised to. Then Ami thought of something else, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "But why didn't you try to get in touch when you found out we were back?"

"You're not going to give me even an inch, are you?" Ryo demanded, struggling not to laugh.

"So I'm just a typical jealous girlfriend; petty, possessive, and suspicious." Ami shrugged. "I'll get over it tomorrow. Now answer the question."

"I really have to get you away from Usagi-chan," Ryo chuckled. "Well, at the time, I wasn't sure whether you were all-the-way back or just starting over from scratch." He paused, then grinned ruefully. "Besides, if we _had_ gotten back together, we wouldn't have had that little run-in at the library, would we?"

Remembering the incident, it was Ami's turn to fight to keep a straight face. She had been visiting half the bookstores and libraries in Tokyo with Rei, helping her track down several extremely hard-to-find titles, and that search had brought them to the library in Ryo's neighborhood at the same time as he was there, returning a book borrowed for a school project. Usagi had come along—probably just to annoy Rei—and gotten herself lost among the stacks, so Rei and Ami had been forced to split up and go in search of her. While in the middle of that search, Ami had rounded a corner and come face-to-face with Ryo; both of them had been so surprised to see each other—and more importantly, to see that the other _recognized_ them—that they hadn't noticed Usagi appear at the other end of the row.

Usagi had been so happy to see the two of them together again that she had literally jumped for joy—kicking one of the bookstacks in the process, unfortunately. That wall of books had swayed ominously and then toppled forwards into the next row, setting off a domino effect through twelve different shelves and about a thousand different books. No one had been hurt, but it had taken hours to clean the mess up.

"Rei-chan never did find those books she wanted."

"But _we_ found each other," Ryo said, smiling and taking her hand again, with far less hesitation than earlier. "So that's all right."

Ami smiled back. Even in her admittedly restrained estimation, the moment called for a kiss. But just as they were leaning towards one another, Ryo paused.

Ami frowned. "What is it?"

"Your communicator is about to go off." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than they were proven true by a faint but insistent beeping.

"Oh, bother." Letting go of Ryo's hand, Ami raised her wrist and snapped a rather harsh, "What is it?" at whoever was on the other end.

"Uh, it's me." Usagi sounded more than a little nervous. "Am I interrupting something?"

"As a matter of fact," Makoto's voice responded, hooked into the call with her own communicator, "you are."

"Oooh!" That was Minako. Ami wondered if Rei was also patched in to this growing conversation. "Did you have a date, Mako-chan? Is he cute?"

"Actually, Ami-chan's the one with the date."

"I can speak for myself, Mako-chan." Silence. "What did you want, Usagi-chan?"

"I, uh, just got a call from Haruka-san. She and the others are going to arrive at the airport tomorrow afternoon at 4:00, and she wanted us to meet them there."

"Is 'us' all of us?" Rei asked. "Or is it just you?"

"Well... she only asked me to be there. But I think Michiru-san wants some answers, and I was, uh, sort of hoping to have some backup on this one." Another silence, though Ami fancied she could hear several pairs of eyes rolling.

"That's what I thought." Rei sighed. "Well, I've got nothing planned for tomorrow that I can't put off."

"Same goes for me," Makoto admitted. "Ami-chan?"

"Not a problem."

"I'm good to God," Minako added, sparking another round of silence.

"I doubt that's what _he_ says," Ryo snickered. Ami punched him in the shoulder.

"So," Makoto said at last. "Are we going separately, or should we meet before heading out?"

"Rei-chan," Minako asked then, "doesn't Yuuichirou-kun have a minivan?"

"Yes," Rei admitted reluctantly, "but..."

"Great! You can talk to him, and he can drive us all to the airport."

"I'd rather not..." Rei began.

"Ah, I hate to say this," Ryo interrupted again, "but that _is_ how you 're going to get there."

"You're sure?" Ami asked him.

"Positive. The five of you were in a van; I remember Kumada-san from Usagi-chan's little party, and he was the one driving."

"I really don't..." Rei tried to protest, but Minako cut her off again.

"That settles it, then. Meet at Hikawa tomorrow by 3:30; be there, or Pi R squared." The signal beeped once, signaling that Minako had shut off her communicator.

"I guess that's that," Usagi said. "Rei?" No response. "Rei?" Still nothing. "Rei."

"I'll talk to him." Her tone promised nothing. "Good night." And the signal beeped a second time.

"She'll talk to him." Makoto suppressed a laugh. "More like she'll tell him to do it, and then chase him around with a broom if he doesn't agree."

"You know how Rei is." Usagi sighed. "All right. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then. Ami-chan, Ryo-kun, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"What about what you've already done?" Makoto asked impishly.

"MAKOTO!" A faint beep indicated Makoto had ducked out before Ami 's predictable response.

***MILLENNIALS***

Haruka looked out from the window, staring down at the ground—or was it the ocean by now? No way to tell, really, not at this height—at the ground so far below the plane. A contented smile worked its way onto her face at the sight, a smile that most of the other Senshi would have found to be rather out-of-place, had they seen it; the words 'at ease' or 'content' weren't ones her younger allies usually associated with Haruka. They weren't words she'd normally use to describe herself, for that matter, but right now, they worked. She settled back in her seat with a sigh, closing her eyes. The plane was still more than two hours from Tokyo, so she might as well take whatever rest she could get.

In the aisle seat, Michiru glanced towards her partner and, seeing the relaxed expression, smiled. Life, she knew, had not been as kind to Haruka as it might have. Not that her own life had been a picnic either, Michiru admitted wryly, but then, she was the stronger of the two of them. Emotionally, at least.

Michiru had no illusions about the differences in their physical strengths; in terms of pure muscle, the only Senshi who was anywhere near Haruka's level was Makoto, and if it came down to an actual fight between the two, Haruka's superior skill and experience could probably win out. Though if someone were taking side bets on the outcome, Michiru thought she might put a few yen on Makoto, just to be safe.

When it came to emotional strength, though, any one of the other Senshi could have given Haruka a challenge. She was like the wind in so many ways, with all its strengths and weaknesses. Swift and strong, she could be as warm and gentle as the summer breezes, or as cold and fierce as an arctic gale. Haruka swept over every obstacle in her path, taking every challenge in life head-on, full force, and wholeheartedly. When she won, she moved on to the next challenge so quickly that she barely noticed, but when she lost...

Sometimes Michiru wondered whether Haruka was running through life because of an eagerness to meet new challenges, or to escape the memory of her failures in the past. She was so strong and self-assured on the outside, as implacable as the wind, that the idea of her being bothered by mistakes seemed impossible.

But the wind was diverted by every object that it touched: trees bent before it but seldom broke; mountains held fast under the strongest hurricanes; the water danced under it, but it was to the sea that the wind inevitably returned to regain its strength. Even the ordinary humans who had built this airplane—this flying machine whose wings caught the air and used it to soar—even they could affect the wind.

Behind the face that she showed to the world, Haruka hid regret, fear, and grief from a hundred mistakes, a thousand failures. Every so often, when all her defenses were down while she slept at night, the worst of those lurking pains made their way to the surface, taking shape in nightmares, tears, and screams. Darkness terrified Haruka in a way that no monster would ever match, not because it _was_ dark, but because she was alone in it.

Michiru remembered the night she had learned that.

It was five—no, six—six months after they first met, six months of learning to work side by side against creatures that, until they saw one, neither of them had ever thought existed. Haruka had moved in and settled herself in one of the spare rooms in Michiru's almost palatial home, and their days tended to follow the same routine; breakfast, school, planning, patrolling, late meal, sleep. Duty took precedence over everything else; their personal lives were more or less on hold, and even their growing feelings for each other went unexpressed in the face of their mission as Senshi.

The night had been unusually quiet. Even now, Michiru wasn't sure why she had woken up, though she remembered being mildly thirsty and vaguely concerned about something. A glass of water solved the first problem, but the concern stayed with her, making sleep impossible, so Michiru had decided to get up and take a quick walk through the house to wear herself down and make sure that it wasn't the memory of an open window or unlocked door that was bothering her.

She had completed a circuit of the second floor and was checking the ground level when she passed Haruka's room and heard a strange, frightened noise. The door had been left open, so Michiru had decided to check and make sure that nothing was wrong. She found Haruka in the grip of a terrible dream, struggling feebly against nothing, her nightshirt sodden with sweat, the sheets twisted, her face contorted in a silent, tearstained howl. A single touch had been enough to awaken her, but while the nightmare was over, the terror of it had remained—so Michiru had stayed as well, climbing into the bed and holding her dear friend close to help her fight off the fear. That had been the first night they'd slept together—and unlike a lot of second-rate so-called romances, sleep was ALL that had happened.

*Was it?* a quiet voice in the back of Michiru's head asked. *Were you just comforting a loved one, or did something else happen? How much did that one night change the rest of your life? Of both your lives? Just as Haruka has always been the wind, you have always been the ocean, but that night, you became HER ocean, the place she returns to regain her strength.*

For some reason, that voice sounded like Usagi—which, in a curious way, made sense. Out of all the other Senshi, Usagi was the one most likely to really understand the turning point that one night represented.

*Assuming, of course, that I ever told any of them about it. Haruka would kill me if I told the others that she's afraid of the dark—but then again, it might be worth it just to see how they react to everything else.*

Michiru glanced at Haruka again and saw that she was asleep, despite the muted roar of the wind and the plane's engines coming from outside her window. It was no surprise, really. Michiru could remember waking up several times during raging summer storms or howling blizzards to find Haruka sound asleep beside her. Where the wind might trouble the dreams of others, it chased away Haruka's nightmares; the fiercer the wind blew, the more peaceful her dreams became.

That was probably part of the reason Haruka loved driving so much. The sheer speed of the vehicle and the rush of the air was as close as she could get to flying while still on the ground; the tug of the wind did not drag at Haruka's spirit, but blasted away the worries of the world, setting her free and letting her soar.

*It's a wonder she hasn't taken up skydiving yet.* After a moment to reflect on that thought, Michiru decided not to bring the subject up. Haruka might just decide to go for it—and Hotaru would almost certainly insist on going along. There was no way on or off Earth that Michiru was going to let THAT little disaster happen; heights didn't bother her, but the idea of spiraling downwards through a mile or two of empty space at a speed sufficient to make even water harder than steel on impact... no thank you!

The thought made Michiru glance forward, but even with the seats tilted back, Hotaru and ChibiUsa were hidden from view except for two points of pink hair on the left and a few strands of black to the right. The soft sound of Hotaru's breathing and the louder racket coming from ChibiUsa proclaimed that they were asleep.

Michiru yawned, then decided that, since everyone else had nodded off, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. She settled back in her chair, wondering how she was supposed to actually get to sleep with all the noise ChibiUsa was making, and what the reaction of the other Senshi would be when they found out about her being here...

The stewardess who came along a few minutes later found four sound sleepers. She spread a blanket over the smaller girls, who had fallen asleep leaning shoulder-to-shoulder, head-to-head, and thought about her own friends, and what they might be doing right now. She put a second blanket over the young couple in the next row—a stunningly attractive girl and a young fellow handsome to the point of beauty—taking care so as not to disturb them or separate their hands, loosely joined on the armrest.

Then she continued down the aisle, smiling, thinking about what it had been like to be young and in love, and wondering why she had never found anyone like that.

***MILLENNIALS***

The collector decided that it was having a bad day.

The destruction of its counterpart earlier in the week had thrown the entire plan into disarray, forcing the collector and others like it to implement new orders while still just beginning to understand the old ones. The loss of the stable energy source which the destroyed unit had been attempting to create meant that other units would have to pick up the slack, if anything of the grand plan was to be salvaged.

Although it had been disturbed on some basic level by the chaotic reorganization, the collector believed that it had adapted sufficiently to cope.

Then the energies had started to converge on it.

The first it had noticed felt strange, potent and yet somehow dulled. Dormant. But even in this state of apparent slumber, the energy was dark and terrible, making the collector's pulpy mass twitch—perhaps with fear, perhaps with jealousy. This was the sort of power it desired, energy that by its very nature would readily adapt to the uses called for in the greater plan, and in great quantities. And yet, those very qualities of essence and concentration meant that the collector could not risk tapping into that power, not now—perhaps not ever, if it could not build its reserves faster.

Several more energies had appeared on the edges of the collector's awareness not long after, energies it knew to be strong, active, and dangerous. One of them was so intense that it not only interfered with the collector's attempts to direct what few servants it had been able to gather, but also made any hope of signaling for help impossible. The appearance of another group of strong energies, headed directly for the ones already gathered nearby, was little more than an afterthought by comparison.

The only hope the collector had was to lay low and avoid detection.

But somehow, it suspected that this wouldn't be enough.

***MILLENNIALS***

The Senshi cooled their heels among one of the numerous waiting areas, the one closest to the escalators down which new arrivals would appear after disembarking. Each passed the time in her own way.

Ami was sitting and talking with Ryo, who had caught a ride on the bus and been waiting in the sitting area when the girls and their driver had shown up. Out of Yuuichirou's hearing, Ryo professed to a certain curiosity about the 'mysterious Outer Senshi,' particularly this one who seemed able to spook Usagi so badly just by wanting a few answers. Privately, the girls suspected he had other motives, but they kept their mouths shut.

Minako had taken up a diligent vigil at the edge of the rows of seats, staring at the escalators with an intensity that bordered on the maniacal. Quite a few disembarking passengers flinched under that unrelenting optic onslaught, and more than one hastily reconsidered their travel plans. No one had asked her to stop, though; Artemis knew better, and airport security had either not been alerted or had chosen to err on the side of caution.

Makoto had chosen a seat that did not face any of the windows, and she was carrying on an animated conversation with Yuuichirou. Rei stood not far off, watching them out of the corner of one eye and privately admitting to herself that Yuuichirou wasn't as dense as he sometimes appeared. Or sounded. Or acted. He had struck up a dialogue in the van well before they had reached the airport, and maneuvered the discussion so carefully that Makoto had not even noticed that she was being distracted from the noise of the planes all around.

Usagi was alternating between pacing and sitting, and constantly twisting her ring while shooting nervous glances at the escalators whether on her feet or in a chair. Luna lay curled up on a chair somewhere near the midpoint of the pacing, every so often opening one eye to follow her charge's movements.

Finally, the airport intercom crackled to life.

"Flight 24 now disembarking at Gate 3."

"That's them," Usagi gulped.

"That's probably my cue to disappear for a while, then," Yuuichirou said, getting to his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Rei demanded immediately.

"As far as I can get from Usagi-chan and whatever's about to come down that escalator after her. I'll be at that cafeteria we passed if you need me to carry anything after the fireworks have cleared." With a nod to Makoto and a wry look to Ryo—who smiled, rolled his eyes, and shook his head—Yuuichirou vanished down the wide corridor.

"Coward," Rei muttered after him.

"Where's Yuuichirou-kun going?" Minako asked, abandoning her vigil to rejoin the others.

"Never mind." Rei looked at Ryo suspiciously. "What was that look about?"

"What? Oh, he was just letting me know he thought it was a bad idea to be here, that he was getting out while he could, and if I wanted to stay, I was probably a braver guy than he thought."

"You got all _that_ from one look?"

Ryo shrugged. "It's a guy thing."

"I think I see Haruka-san," Makoto said then. Usagi blanched.

"Excuse me a minute." And before they could stop her, she had disappeared into a nearby washroom.

"She _really_ doesn't want to talk to them, does she?" Ryo noted blandly. Rei was already moving to drag Usagi back, kicking and screaming and by the ends of her hair if necessary, but Makoto stopped her.

"Give her a couple of minutes."

"I'll give her more than that if she thinks we're going to do this for her," Rei growled. "I am NOT taking the heat in that odango-atama's place just because she wants to weasel out of answering a few questions for Michiru-san."

They turned back to watch the three Outer Senshi descend the escalator. Ryo compared the reality with the images he'd built up from Ami's descriptions and identified the three with no trouble. The pink-haired girl with them caused him some difficulty, however.

*That's odd,* he thought absently. *She looks just like... wait a minute, she REALLY looks like...* He broke off staring at the girl for a moment, long enough to notice that Ami and the rest were all doing the same thing. A terrible suspicion began to dawn on him as the new arrivals stopped before them.

"Surprise!" ChibiUsa announced, making a grand, presenting sort of motion with her arms.

"What are you doing here?" all four Inner Senshi demanded at once, nearly scaring Ryo out of his skin.

"Oh, come ON. Can't I just drop by to visit friends?" The four-way glare clearly said no, and ChibiUsa sighed. "You're no fun at all. The five of... hey, wait a minute. Where's the odango-atama?"

"She's hiding in the washroom," Ryo began. The words died when the two older girls refocused their attention—which had until now been on the reactions of the Inner Senshi—to him. There was nothing even remotely hostile in either face, but Ryo started to understand why Usagi was so reluctant to come out and face these two.

"And you are?" Michiru asked politely.

"His name's Urawa Ryo," ChibiUsa said absently, still looking around for Usagi. "He's with Ami-chan, he sees the future, and he already knows all about us. Did I leave anything out? No? Good."

"How did..."

"Mercury told me—a little. I actually had to go to Venus and Jupiter to get the whole story; they'll talk more about their or other people's boyfriends than Mercury does. Though asking about it is a good way to get her to end those math classes early." ChibiUsa chuckled, then stopped her search for Usagi long enough to give Ryo the once-over, apparently liking what she saw. "They _didn't_ tell me he was this cute, though." She winked at Ami, who looked like she was on the verge of passing out or spontaneously bursting into flame.

"What else did Ve... I mean, did we tell you?" Minako asked.

"Oh, all kinds of stuff. But I'm not allowed to talk about anybody or anything you haven't met yet; Pu, Mama, and Papa all made me promise. Several times. Sorry."

"Nuts." Minako kicked at an unoffending floor tile.

"You... ah... didn't happen to bring Diana with you, did you?" Luna asked.

"No. You grounded her after you caught her sneaking out to see Vega again."

"I see." Luna frowned. "Who's Vega?"

"He's the son of the Nekoron ambassador." ChibiUsa scratched her head. "I'm not really sure what she sees in him, but this was the third time she got caught. I suppose he is good-looking, and he does write all those poems for her, but..."

"Doesn't this fall into that category of stuff you're not supposed to tell us?" Artemis reminded her with a hint of desperation. Even though it was pretty much set in stone that he and Luna were going to have a daughter at some point in the future, Artemis still thought of himself as being in the carefree bachelor stage of his life, and hearing about said daughter made him more nervous than the proverbial room full of rocking chairs. Hearing about her future romantic interests was WAY beyond anything he wanted to know right now.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Oops." ChibiUsa blushed. Then something occurred to her. "You know, I wondered why you two were giving Vega the evil eye from day one, even when he hadn't done anything. I guess this explains it. I hope Pu isn't too upset with... where is she, anyway?"

"Why don't we let Usagi-chan answer that?" Makoto suggested. "Just so we can get everything out of the way at once. You can grab a seat, and I'll go get her."

"Make that _we'll_ go get her," Rei amended quietly.

"Sounds like a plan," Haruka replied. "If nothing else, it'll give us a chance to get acquainted with Urawa-san."

"Lucky me," Ryo mumbled. Makoto walked off, followed closely by Rei.

"You said you wanted to meet them," Ami whispered as they moved towards the seats. The bathroom door had just swung shut, and she could have sworn she heard a yelp from somewhere inside.

"And you believed me?"

Fortunately for Ryo, Makoto and Rei returned only a few moments later, standing behind and to either side of Usagi, rather like guards escorting a prisoner. Michiru, Haruka, Hotaru, and ChibiUsa were sitting with their backs to the three of them, and when Usagi spotted the row of heads, she gulped, straightened her shoulders, and marched forward as if approaching a firing squad.

"Ahem," she began, clearing her throat. The Outers and their traveling companion rose, turned around—and gaped as they got their first look at Usagi in over six months. ChibiUsa in particular seemed absolutely stunned; Usagi was returning the favor, staring at ChibiUsa as if seeing a ghost.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" they shrieked in unison. Several passing travelers turned at the ear-piercing chorus, but neither girl noticed anything except her 'reflection.'

Michiru was the first to find her voice. "Been keeping secrets, have we?" In spite of her outwardly calm demeanor, she couldn't keep a note of shock out of her words.

"I didn't know," Haruka said automatically. "I swear to God, if I'd known, I would have told you."

"Believe me," Minako warned them, "you haven't seen anything yet."

***MILLENNIALS***

To most of the people passing through the airport, there was nothing particularly unusual about the group of girls sitting in the waiting area. Most people saw only a few friends welcoming other friends home, both sides catching up on recent, not-so recent, and downright old events.

Most people were looking at the group with their eyes.

The collector did not possess eyes, so of course it could not see the girls. What it did possess was a highly developed sense of touch, acute enough to pick up and discern between the vibrations caused by different footsteps from all corners of the airport, thus doing double duty as a sense of hearing. Though it had no nose or tongue, the collector could smell and taste as well as it could feel and hear, which was well enough to detect and sort out varying individual scents that even the airport's canine security officers might miss. The collector also possessed a sense which most humans either lacked or ignored, the ability to feel energy.

Right now, all of the collector's senses screamed that danger was about to overtake it on a massive scale. The energies which had been disturbing it for hours had all gathered together in one spot—and as far as the collector was concerned, it was just about the worst spot possible. The distance between them and its all-too vulnerable self could be measured in meters; if even one of them happened to move three meters down and five over from where they were, the collector knew it would be doomed.

Worse yet, its basic instincts demanded that it try to take possession of the very power that was threatening it. The collector's higher reasoning knew that it would eventually be unable to ignore the overriding order. If the energies did not move on soon, it would be forced into an attack it could not hope to win, but which it could also not hope to avoid.

Subterfuge was the only chance left.

***MILLENNIALS***

Hotaru was trying not to stare, but it was a losing battle.

On the one hand, her best friend was sitting right next to her, watching Usagi as she spoke and looking more and more bewildered with each second; on the other hand, her best friend was also across the aisle, and it was doubtful that she could even open her eyes to see anything yet. The whole thing was more than a little disturbing, but Hotaru reasoned that fair was only fair. After all, if ChibiUsa had had to sit and endure seeing _her_ as a baby, Hotaru supposed the least she could do was return the favor. But it was still weird.

There were other things to consider, too. As Sailor Saturn, Hotaru was forced to bear the terrible powers of the Senshi of Destruction. She knew that, if she chose, she could extinguish all life in this airport and most of the surrounding city with little more than a flick of her wrist. And the truly frightening thing was that, as the youngest and least-experienced of the Senshi, she was still learning the limits of her powers.

One such discovery had come to her very slowly over the last few months; when she focused on her powers, Hotaru could see life, in the form of a glowing aura around who or whatever she happened to be looking at. The stronger, healthier, or younger someone was, the brighter they shone, and when looking at the other Senshi through this second sight, Hotaru had to fight an urge to squint against the intensity of energy they put out. Some people would say that this was a wonderful gift, and in many ways, it was. But by definition, being able to see life also meant that Hotaru could see death. Sometimes it was a slow thing, a steady dimming of a person's aura as they grew weaker from illness or injury or age; other times, Hotaru could see death looming over someone with such clarity that she could almost feel it looking back at her.

Her worst fear was that, someday, she would look at one of her friends and see that silent spectre hanging around them.

The only thing that made such an awful burden bearable was that, as a de-facto representative of the combined powers of life and death, Hotaru was able to affect changes in what she saw. Her eerie ability to heal was proof of that, and just as she had grown stronger in the months since her powers had awakened, gaining through her rebirth the freedom to live her life without the near- crippling illness that had haunted her for so long, so too had her healing talent grown in strength. Sometimes she slipped away from under the watchful eyes of her guardians to wander the streets as Saturn, searching for illnesses to heal, lives to renew.

Haruka and Michiru knew about those late-night missions of mercy, of course. They would periodically check her room to see if they could catch her sneaking in or out, berating her with stern lectures whenever they did so and telling her to go back to sleep. But they never tried to tell her to stop, never forbade her to go on these wandering excursions, and for that unspoken understanding, Hotaru was grateful. Helping ease the pain of others made her own burden a little easier to carry, and the hours of sleep she lost were paid back tenfold with the knowledge that someone else could sleep a little better because of her.

Sometimes, she found people that were beyond even the reach of her healing touch. These, she stayed with until the end, giving what comfort she could, even if it was only the knowledge that they would not face the end alone. She had been called 'angel of death' in more languages than she knew how to speak, always recognizing the words by the sound of how they were spoken, by the expression on the faces of those who spoke them—fear and relief, regret and reverence. Even these losses did not trouble Hotaru; she had tried her best, done what she could, and no one could ask for more. She had laughed as a young man joked that he never knew death was so cute; she had smiled as an old woman talked about the husband and friends she was about to meet again, about the children and grandchildren she was leaving behind; she had cradled a dying baby boy and sung him into oblivion with a gentle lullaby, half-remembered from a time long before, when gentle hands had held her, and a soft voice sung those same quiet words.

In the end, Hotaru knew that death would come even to the people she loved most in the world, and that all the power of Saturn could not stop it; even with her ordinary, dark-hued, little girl eyes, she could see that someday, she would lose them. Knowing it hurt, but it didn't stop her from loving them. Or from resolving to fight with everything she had in her to make sure that 'someday' did not come for a long, long time.

With that thought in mind, Hotaru called up her other sight and focused it squarely on Usagi and the unborn ChibiUsa. She saw a brilliant white halo surrounding Usagi, an almost overwhelming energy which she knew to be coming from the tiny crystal in Usagi's locket. Looking past that, Hotaru could see the white energy which was Usagi's alone. It was not as strong as the ginzuishou — nothing was, as far as Hotaru knew—but it was still difficult for her to look at directly. And there, inside and beyond the second wall of white, unseen light, Hotaru could see the faintest hint of the same pink light sheathing the older ChibiUsa who now sat to her left. Nowhere in that entire three-tiered blaze of life did Hotaru see even a trace of illness.

But she did see something else, just out of the corner of her eye, something which had nothing to do with Usagi—either Usagi—but which worried her nonetheless.

Ami's boyfriend, Ryo, was sitting quietly, doing his best to stay out of the line of fire as Michiru and Haruka continued to interrogate Usagi. Even though he could apparently see the future, Hotaru had expected Ryo to have an aura like any ordinary person's, and she was quite surprised to see that the blue-grey energy shining from his body was as strong as any of the light coming from the gathered Senshi. It was not the unexpected intensity that bothered her, but the strange way in which the light grew steadily darker as it radiated out, leaving a thin circle of jet black around Ryo.

Hotaru had never seen anything like that before. She knew instinctively that it was not a mark of poor health—that was reflected as a fading of the light, not a change in the color—but she was also at a loss to think of an explanation for the effect.

She had no idea of how to ask about it, though. Only Michiru and ChibiUsa knew about Hotaru's life-seeing ability, and she wanted to keep it that way. She had told Michiru when the uncanny ability first began to manifest itself, needing to tell someone who could reassure her and tell her not to be afraid. As the closest thing to a mother Hotaru could clearly remember, Michiru heard about all the secrets that frightened the little Senshi; ordinary things that every girl confides in her mother or older sister, extraordinary things that only another Senshi could understand. Hotaru had told ChibiUsa because they had no secrets from each other—except for things about the future, of course. Well, some things, at least—but no one else knew.

*Other kids were afraid of me because I could heal,* Hotaru thought. *The Senshi weren't afraid because they could all do things just like it. They were afraid of Saturn because of how powerful she is, what Mistress 9 could have used her to do, but they weren't afraid of Tomoe Hotaru, and they're not scared of Saturn anymore. But if they knew that I could see them like this, that I could tell them when they were going to die... I don't want my friends to be afraid of me again.*

So Hotaru filed away what she had seen until later, when she could think of a way to ask Ryo—or maybe Ami—about it without divulging her secret in the process.

Almost immediately, though, she saw something else, this time in Makoto, who stood against the wall at the near end of the row of seats where Usagi was sitting. What Hotaru saw was a faint shimmering at the edges of Makoto's aura, a vibrant green blaze which Hotaru often thought matched the older girl's eyes. The shimmer was a familiar sight, indicating a disturbance in a person's life- force. Something on the order of a mild headache or upset stomach would do the trick for this small a reaction, but the way it pulsed was unusual. The outer edge of the green aura was rippling like grass in the wind.

Makoto, Hotaru noted, didn't look very good. Her face was pale, her breathing ragged. At first Hotaru thought it was because of the airport; she knew that Makoto was terrified of planes, and the fear inspired by the infrequent roars of take-offs and landings might be what was causing the ripple. But Makoto looked more ill than afraid.

"Mako-chan," Hotaru asked, interrupting Usagi and Michiru, "are you feeling okay?" Everyone looked at Makoto, most of them noticing for the first time that she did indeed look unwell. Minako, in the middle of adjusting the bow in her hair, lifted her head and wound up pulling the ribbon completely out.

"Now that you mention it, no." A wave of nausea interrupted anything else Makoto might have been about to say, but she decided that sitting down might help. It didn't.

"Is it the... the airplanes?" Usagi asked hesitantly, recalling Makoto's furious explosion at the hospital a few days before when this same subject had come up. She was relieved when Makoto shook her head.

"No. Not that."

"What, then? What's wrong?"

"Can't you smell it?"

"Smell what?" Usagi sniffed at the air but detected nothing unusual; Ami had pulled out her computer and was running an analysis of the air; her arms over her head to re-tie the bow, Minako remembered something and paused.

"Uh, Artemis? By any chance, is your ear twitching?"

"Huh? Why would..." He stopped in mid-sentence as a particularly strong twinge went off, flattening his left ear against his furry head, and then looked at Minako in surprise before his eyes drifted towards Makoto. "Uh-oh."

"That's a good word for it," Minako agreed, letting her ribbon fall again as she began looking around.

"Is there something you'd like to tell us?" Michiru asked impatiently.

"We found out a couple of days ago that Mako-chan and Artemis seem to be sensitive to the presence of the most recent bunch of goons," Minako explained. "They could both smell something in that cafe way before..."

"_What_ cafe?" Michiru demanded, Usagi's interrogation not having proceeded quite that far just yet.

"I'll explain later," Minako said, speaking in a dismissive tone that made Michiru's eyebrows go up. "Right now, I think we'd better get moving."

"Excuse me, but are you waiting for someone?" a polite voice asked. The Senshi—and Ryo and the cats—turned to see a man from airport security standing not far off. His face was neutral.

Hotaru hissed softly and ducked behind Michiru, taking a firm hold of the older girl's elbow. To her eyes, the man was surrounded by a field of flickering orange, one shot through with unhealthy-looking spots and streaks of a repulsive yellow-green. Michiru looked down in surprise but held her tongue in check when she saw the faint violet glow in Hotaru's eyes—the visible sign that her other sight was in effect, and apparently revealing something disturbing about this otherwise unthreatening man.

Minako's uncharacteristic authoritarianism fell away at once, to be replaced by her usual spunky insanity. "No, actually, we've already found who we were looking for. We were just catching up before we went to get their luggage—you know how it is, friends just back in town, so many stories to tell, so little time. Is there a problem?"

"We received some reports earlier about a suspicious-looking girl hanging around in this area," the man said. "Some of the complainants said she was waiting for someone or something and looked like she might be dangerous. Medium height, blonde, with a red bow or ribbon in her hair. Seen anyone like that?"

"Nope," Minako said with a bright smile, silently hoping that her skirt hid the item in question and the fact that she was carefully gathering the 'incribbonating' evidence up in her fist. "But we'll be sure to let you know if we do. Well," she added, over her shoulder and to Haruka and Michiru, "I think we should go make sure they didn't ship your luggage to Africa or something, don't you?"

She kept smiling clear to the luggage carousel, where she looked around, noted that the man from security hadn't followed them, and let out a relieved breath.

"What was all that about?" Haruka asked.

"That guy had the same look as the people from the Cafe," Minako replied, still looking around cautiously. "All grey-faced and zombie-like. Since one of those fungus-things is probably around here, I figured it must have taken control of him like the last one did to the Cafe's employees. I wanted to make sure we didn't give ourselves away."

"I meant that business with the ribbon."

"Oh." She actually blushed. "Well, I was sort of keeping watch for you earlier, and I guess a few people got nervous when I gave them the old hairy eyeball routine."

"'Hairy eyeball?'" Michiru asked with a pained look.

"What? It's a common expression."

"As unlikely as it sounds," Ami said, "I think she actually got one right for a change. I'm sure I've seen that phrase in a few books."

"Well _of course_ I got it right, Ami-chan." Minako sounded a bit miffed. "I'm like the Mounties; I always get a tan."

Everyone facefaulted.

"Look, the important thing is that one of those energy-stealing moss monsters is hiding around here." Ami held up her computer to emphasize the point. "I got some strong readings in that waiting area, and they've fallen off considerably the further we moved away, so I'd say this thing's concentrated in that area. Mako-chan, Artemis?"

"I felt better almost as soon as we got away from there," Makoto agreed.

"So what do we do?" Minako said. "Track it down now, while we 're here, or come back later tonight when there are fewer people around?"

"We can't leave it here," Makoto said immediately. "If it's drawing power from people like the last one, it could already be huge. I'd rather not let it get any bigger."

"The readings suggest it isn't very large yet," Ami reassured her. "But you're right; we should deal with it before it has a chance to grow any further."

"But if we go after it now," Rei countered, "a lot of people could get hurt." Her eyes drifted meaningfully towards Usagi. "The Cafe was torn apart just by the last one coming out to meet us, and I'm not sure how we'd protect this many people from whatever attacks this one has. I say we come back later."

"You're assuming we'll be able to leave in the first place," Artemis told her. "This one's got its hooks into airport security already, and the timing of the attack at the Cafe was a little too precise for my taste. _We_ may be able to track it, but _it_ may also be able to track us."

"I say we go after it," Haruka said.

Michiru nodded. "I agree. I want to see what we're up against this time."

"All right then," Ami decided. "We'll split up into three groups. Minako and Rei will go with Artemis; Michiru will go with Makoto; Haruka will go with me. Each group has a way to tell where this thing is and enough firepower to keep it busy until the others can arrive."

"What about me and Hotaru?" ChibiUsa protested. "Don't we get a say in this?"

"We're staying here to protect Usagi-chan," Hotaru said firmly.

"Oh. Right." Neither Usagi looked very happy about this arrangement.

"And where are you going?" Haruka asked Ryo, who was in the middle of walking away.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm going to go find Kumada-san and make sure he doesn 't come tearing in trying to find Hino-san when all the screaming starts." While Haruka and Michiru looked sidelong at Rei, who turned bright red and glared back at them, Ryo gave Ami a quick nod. "Try looking in the boiler room and the maintenance halls; I saw something green hidden behind a lot of pipes. And be careful, okay?"

"You too." Ami watched him leave, then shook her head and came back to the situation at hand. "All right. Let's find this thing."

***MILLENNIALS***

If the collector had sweat glands, they would have been producing the proverbial bullets.

The energies had moved off at first, but now most of them were circling back towards it in smaller groups. Evidently, the ploy with the captured human had failed, and now it was in even more immediate danger than before. The time for deception was past; now was the time to act.

But how?

The collector knew that a frontal assault was out of the question; its counterpart had gathered several times the energy it currently commanded and still been defeated—and by a force that was significantly weaker than the one roaming around in the here and now. Retreat was equally unavailable; the collector did not have enough power to fashion a gateway, and it doubted that any slower means of travel would save it.

That left the possibility of stealth.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Any idea why you react so strongly to these things while the rest of us don't even notice?" Neptune asked.

"I'm not completely sure," Jupiter replied. They and the others were moving through the lower level of the airport, following Ryo's advice and checking into the darker, danker sections for signs of the enemy. It was difficult for her to speak because of all the effort she had to put into trying to get some sense of direction out of the nausea boiling in her stomach and brain.

The image of a boiling stomach and brain didn't help matters, but Jupiter clenched her teeth, fought down her breakfast, and nodded down a hall.

"This way. I think it might have something to do with how I get along with plants."

"'Get along?'" Neptune sounded amused.

"You know what I mean. I've always been... I guess the word I want is 'attuned,' or maybe 'sensitive.' Whatever you want to call it. I've always been comfortable around plants, and I've always been able to get them to grow." Jupiter's voice became distant. "When I was little, before I was old enough to go to school, my mother owed a flower shop, and she brought me to work with her. I used to think I could hear the plants talking to me, telling me what they wanted or needed, so I helped out. Even later on, I'd stop by after school or on weekends to see how the plants were doing; I used to bring some of them home."

Neptune was surprised—and perhaps a bit worried—to notice the change in Jupiter's voice, which now sounded as if it belonged to a much younger girl.

"Mama said sometimes that she might as well retire, since I was doing all the work, but I never thought of it as work. The plants were my friends. I knew my parents wanted me to get out with my friends more, but the plants were all the company I needed, and if I wanted someone to talk to, Mama was always around." There was a pause, and when the little-girl voice began to speak again, it was numb. Lost. "After she and Papa... after they were gone, I still took care of my plants, but I couldn't hear them anymore."

As Jupiter's voice trailed off, Neptune remained silent, pretending not to notice when the auburn-haired Senshi shook her head and wiped something from her face.

"Anyway," she went on, "I think that these creatures make me feel sick because they're something like plants, but not really. Something natural, twisted into something unnatural. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I think so. We're all attuned to elements or objects that are associated with our powers. Mercury and I are both excellent swimmers, Uranus loves the wind and anything else that moves fast, and Mars sees her fire almost as a living thing." *Then there's what Hotaru can do.* "As for Venus, well..." Neptune paused, uncertain what part of the maniac personality of Venus reflected her command of metal, and decided to skip it. "I suppose you can also tell when there's a thunderstorm building, right?"

"Usually. Hang on a second." Jupiter cocked her head to one side, then whispered, "Better get out of sight."

An airport employee, only the second they'd passed so far, walked past them. A janitor or technician of some sort, he didn't seem to have the empty look Jupiter remembered from the Cafe, and he was even whistling as he went by.

"I wonder if maybe we should tell him to get out of here," Jupiter said, frowning.

"If he's been taken over, there's no point, and even if he hasn't, we can't afford to give ourselves away. Besides," Neptune pointed out, "the thing's up ahead, and he's going in the other direction. Keep your mind on business and forget about him. Even if he _was_ handsome."

"Spoilsport." In the shadows, Jupiter grinned. "I wonder what Uranus would say if she knew you were admiring guys behind her back? Maybe I should warn her."

Neptune told her, in no uncertain terms, what she could do with her 'warning.' But she was glad to hear that Jupiter was back to normal.

***MILLENNIALS***

"So you and this Ryo guy are pretty serious?"

Uranus and Mercury were moving in from a different angle than Jupiter and Neptune, and Mars and Venus were on yet a third route, effectively boxing in the enemy from all sides even though they didn't yet have a precise fix on its location.

"I don't see how it's any of your business," Mercury replied coolly, checking coordinates on her visor and computer, "but yes, we are."

"You don't need to get defensive," Uranus said. "And it sort of became my business—ALL of our business—when you told him about the Senshi."

"I didn't tell him. He already knew when we met, and that was more than two years ago."

"Okay, fine." Uranus pulled Mercury to a stop. "Look, he obviously knows how to keep a secret, and I'll admit that he handles pressure pretty well for somebody who's basically just another bystander. I can guess that he must be reasonably intelligent if he's held your interest this long, and the fact that he was here at all says that none of the others have a problem with him. He's even sort of handsome." She noticed Mercury's faint, quizzical smile. "Stop that. Just because I'm not interested doesn't mean I'm blind."

"Is there a point to this?" Mercury asked, dismissing her visor and putting away her computer to face Uranus.

"Yes." Uranus cast about for the right words. "We're not normal people," she said at last. "Even when you take away the powers and the monsters and everything that goes with being a Senshi, we're still not what most people would consider ordinary. Most people would call us 'special,' or 'unusual,' or 'extraordinary,' because we are. It's not just that you and Michiru are easily the most intelligent people I've ever met, or that Mako-chan's ridiculously strong, or that Usagi-chan and Mina-chan are... uh..."

"Just plain ridiculous?" Mercury managed to say it without cracking a smile.

"Well, whatever. You know what I'm saying. It's not just one trait that makes each of us stand out, it's a combination of a hundred things. But the problem with standing out and being extraordinary is that a lot of ordinary people resent you for it. Some are afraid of you, others actively hate you, others just ignore you. Most people can either hide the problem or learn to change, but when somebody who is basically extraordinary tries to have a relationship with somebody who isn't, it gets hard for either of them to hide what they really feel. It's worse for a guy trying to date an extraordinary girl."

"Ryo-kun isn't ordinary," Mercury protested, "he's..."

"I know, I know. Just let me finish." Uranus thought for a moment that there was going to be an argument, but Mercury remained quiet, so she continued. "However you define strength, it takes a rare man to go past all the biology and the culture and be able to accept a woman as strong as he is, let alone one who's stronger. And however you look at it, you _are_ stronger than Ryo."

"So you're saying I should just give up and forget about him, is that it? Just because he can't knock down a building and blow up armored cars or discover cold fusion and a cure for cancer in the same day? Or is it just because he's a guy?"

"No, no, no." Uranus ran a hand through her hair. "Mercury, I like the guy; or at least, I like what I've seen of him so far, and the fact that he's been with you for this long says a lot. But what I'm trying to say is that you can't just sit back and expect this to be some sort of fairy-tale romance where everything magically goes right. Sooner or later, you're going to have problems, and the odds are good that a lot of them will be because you're a Senshi and Ryo's just a relatively ordinary person." She made a face. "Not that his being extraordinary would necessarily be an improvement. Just look at all the trouble Usagi-chan and Chiba-san have had."

"Or you and Michiru?" Mercury observed, lifting an eyebrow.

Uranus made another face. "Remind me never to play poker with you," she grumbled. "Look, Mercury, I know we don't always get along. I know you and the other Inners think Neptune and I look down on you, and I'll admit, we've treated you pretty unfairly in the past. It's another of those biological things, I suppose. We're older and more experienced, so we assume that it's better for us to do the dangerous stuff. If we come off as cold sometimes, that's our own fault, but we DO care. That's why I wanted to tell you all this. Ryo's not just your first serious relationship, he's your first relationship _period,_ and there's a lot of things that could go wrong because you don't know what you 're doing, jumping into the deep end before you know how to swim." In spite of herself, Uranus sighed. "I've seen a lot of friends get hurt in relationships; I'd rather not add you to the list."

Mercury was quiet for a very long time. Finally, she said, "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you call me or any of us 'friends.' Or that you ever apologized. For anything."

"Well, I meant it. All of it." Uranus extended her hand, smiled. "Friends?" After a moment, Mercury accepted the handshake and returned the smile. "So, let's get back to tracking this thing, shall we?"

"Right." Mercury had her computer and visor out in a flip and a flick, and led the way. After a little while, she looked back curiously at Uranus. "Since when did you become such an expert on relationships, anyway?"

"Since never." Uranus grinned. "I just tried to think of what Michiru would have said."

"Ah. As far as advice goes, I guess I could do worse. Can you imagine what Mina-chan would have said? Or Rei-chan?"

***MILLENNIALS***

"I just want to know why, out of everybody else, _I_ had to go with _you,_" Mars said flatly.

"And what's wrong with me?" Venus asked as they followed Artemis through the passages. Though the cat would have been deeply insulted by the comparison, he looked a great deal like a tracking dog, stopping every so often with his head tilted before running ahead in short bursts of speed.

"Are you harboring some deep-seated resentments or grudges that I should know about?" Venus went on. "Is my hair too long? My eyes too blue? My spunk too spunky? Smile too bright?"

"Keep this up and your smile's going to have some serious holes in it," Mars muttered.

"Look, you had to go with someone who can find this thing. If you'd gone with Mercury and found it, your powers would have canceled each other out and you'd both be in serious trouble. And you couldn't have gone with Jupiter because she's not feeling well, and you're both short-tempered enough as it is. So that means you had to go with Artemis, and that," Venus finished, "means you had to go with me."

"_You_ could have gone with Mercury or Jupiter, you know."

"And leave Artemis? My friend and partner of almost four years? The odds of you becoming a nun are better than the odds of _that_ happening." Venus looked at Mars with a shrewd glance. "But none of that's why you're upset, is it? You're angry because you're here at all when what you really wanted was to stay with Usagi-chan."

Mars almost tripped over her own feet. It was important to remember that, while Minako sometimes acted like a ditz on a scale that could rival Usagi, she was far more intelligent than she generally let on. So was Usagi, of course, but Minako also had the advantage of her experiences as Sailor V to draw on; at her most outrageously disastrous extreme of ditziness, Minako could say things that—once you got through the garbled slang—were far more mature than she seemed capable of.

"Of course I wanted to stay with her," Mars said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. "It's our job to protect her, remember? And right now, she can't fight off anything stronger than a mosquito."

"She's fine, Mars. ChibiMoon and Saturn can deal with anything that might get by us."

"Some protection," Mars snorted. "One of them can't handle any monster stronger than your average angry dog, and the other can't blow up anything smaller than the entire planet."

"Now you're just pouting. Be fair; Saturn was getting a lot better at controlling her abilities the last time we saw her, and I'm sure Uranus and Neptune saw to it that she stuck with the training. And in case you hadn't noticed, ChibiUsa's grown quite a bit since the last time we saw _her;_ I wouldn't be surprised if she could turn into a full-fledged Sailor Moon by now." Another glance. "But you don't care about how weak or strong they are, do you?"

"Just shut up, Venus."

"Why should I? I know how you feel, Mars; we all do, because we all feel the same way."

"No, you don't. You _don't_ know how I feel, and you _don't_ feel the same way, because neither of us would be down here if you did!" She had almost screamed that last part, Mars realized, leaning against the wall and squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.

Venus waved Artemis off with one hand when he came back to see what all the noise was about, made a motion with the other hand which, to Artemis at least, clearly said 'leave it to me.' Nodding, the cat moved to the far end of the corridor to do just that.

"I talked to Mamoru a couple of days before he left last summer," Mars said suddenly. "He knew Usagi was going to miss him, and he was worried that it might make her do something stupid, so he made me promise to keep her out of trouble, even if I had to lock her up in one of the storage rooms at the shrine to do it. I was worried out of my mind when she was in that funk through September, and then she turns around and tells us from out of nowhere that she's pregnant. So now, all of a sudden, my best friend—my two best friends—are having a baby."

"The timing could have been better," Venus admitted.

"My best friends are having a baby," Mars repeated, as if she hadn't heard. "Monsters are starting to pop up all over again, Usagi can't even transform to protect herself, Mamoru's on the other side of the world—and he doesn't even _know!_—and what do I do? I let her march right into reach of these things and then leave her with two girls who've hardly ever fought on their own as her bodyguards while..." Mars sucked in a deep breath, then spoke in a soft, fierce voice. "I should be with her, damn it. Not hunting some slimy, energy-sucking mold, not wandering around in a concrete maze. With her!"

At that point, Venus reached a decision. She took Mars' clenched hands between her own and spoke. "Go."

Mars looked up. "What?"

"What, you've got a hearing problem all of a sudden? Go. Artemis and I can handle this by ourselves. Besides, what are the odds that _we'll_ find it first? I'm betting on Mercury, myself."

"No. No, I'm staying. You..."

"...can handle it. You're right about ChibiMoon and Saturn not being up to this just yet. They haven't fought these things; we have, so you'd at least have an idea of what to expect. They might need that."

"You're... you're sure?"

Venus nodded, then smiled. "If it's numbers you're worried about, remember that I'm really two Senshi in one. I'll be fine." When Mars still didn 't move, Venus gave her a look of mock harshness. "Now, as the most experienced of the present Senshi AND your direct superior, I order you to get going! Not another word!" she added, when Mars tried to say something through her smile. "Failure to disobey a direct order in a time of war can be considered treason, and I'm through being lenient with you, Mars!"

With one last look of gratitude, Mars disappeared back down the hallway. Venus watched her for a moment, shaking her head and smiling.

"If I get killed because of this," Artemis told her darkly as they proceeded forward, "I'm never going to speak to you again."

"That's a distinct possibility," Venus agreed.

"Why'd you do that, anyway?"

"Usagi-chan might need her. And even if that's not the case, Mars needs _her._" She smiled benevolently at him. "I don't expect you to understand, Artemis; you're a cat, and a guy."

Artemis was hard pressed to tell whether he'd just been insulted, complimented, or both.

When the shadow hit them a few seconds later, he was too busy staying alive to worry about his ego.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Jupiter, this is Mercury."

"I hear you, Mercury. Go ahead."

"Have you found anything?"

"Just that I need to cut down on those buffet breakfasts." In the pause which followed, Mercury could almost hear the smile forming on her friend's face. "Oh, and Neptune's trying to get a date with one of the airline technicians." There was a squawk from somewhere on the other end of the communication before Jupiter continued. "Anything on your end?"

"Moderately well-maintained pipes, a broken light or two, and some misplaced luggage that's probably older than we are." In a sudden burst of Usagi-like mischief, Mercury added, "And Uranus has been giving me some tips on how to deal with guys. Sounds like she has even more expertise in the field than you or Venus."

"Now just a darn minute," Uranus began to say. Mercury looked back at her and grinned.

"We're friends now, right? Well, this is how we treat _all_ our friends."

"Feel free to start hating me again anytime."

"Speaking of Venus," Neptune interrupted. "Have you heard anything from her or Mars?"

"I was just about to check." Mercury tapped her communicator. "Venus, this is Mercury. Find anything yet?" There was no response, which immediately put the others on alert. "Venus," Mercury repeated, more urgently than before, "come in." Still nothing. "Mars?"

"I'm here," Rei's voice replied. Rei's voice, not the older voice of Mars. There was also a great deal of background noise.

"Where are you?" Mercury asked. "Why isn't Venus answering?"

"I don't know," Rei said, sounding worried. "We... we split up. I came back up to check on Usagi-chan, and..."

"You did _what?_" Uranus didn't sound impressed.

"Never mind," Mercury said, forestalling any chance of an argument for which they didn't have the time. "The first order of business is to find Venus."

Mercury's computer had a number of special features which, along with a clock that perked along somewhere just south of the speed of light and a processing power to put a warehouse full of Pentium chips to shame, made it a most excellent addition to the Senshi arsenal. Using one of those added features now, Mercury put Venus' communicator into its broadcast mode, allowing herself and the rest of the Senshi to hear whatever was going on wherever Venus was.

'Whatever' seemed to be quite a bit. They could hear shouting, high-pitched ricochets, low-pitched thumping noises, several muted collisions, something shattering, something else splintering—in a nutshell, all the sounds commonly associated with a major brawl in progress.

"Hands off the cat, greenbean!" Venus shouted. "CRESCENT BEAM!" There was a high-pitched whistle, followed by an odd, shearing sort of sound, probably from a fungoid hand getting severed.

"Behind you!" Artemis yelled. From the Doppler Effect fading of his voice, Mercury figured he was either leaping or falling through the air. Probably the latter, if he'd just been dropped.

"Try to sneak up on _me,_ will you? Ha!" More thumping noises, a loud crash, several lesser crashes, and then what sounded like someone or something groaning in pain. "Welcome to the school of hard knocks! Your instructor today will be Sailor Venus!"

"Do you think we should go help her?" Jupiter asked, speaking over the noise of another crash.

"Sounds to me like she's got everything under control," Uranus admitted, breaking off and gritting her teeth as a sound like tearing sheet metal squealed over the line. It was followed closely by what sounded like gunfire. "Forget that," Uranus amended. "Mercury, where is she?"

"Hang on a sec... okay, I've got a fix. Jupiter, Neptune, go to the end of the hall you're in, make a left, and take the third door on the right. Got that?" The other Senshi made affirmative replies, and Mercury motioned for Uranus to follow her.

The room they entered looked pretty much like it had sounded over the communicators—trashed. It was—heavy emphasis on the past tense—a garage of some kind, filled with the various light, medium, and heavy machines the airline mechanics used in their work. A small forklift lay in pieces in one corner, though the clean way in which it had 'broken' suggested it had been in the middle of a maintenance check when the fight started; most of the other items in the room, strewn about in smashed disarray, had clearly not been as fortunate. Three men and one woman were unconscious on the floor, all of them wearing slightly dingy overalls with the company logo sewn on the back.

Mercury and Uranus had entered from a door near one corner, Jupiter and Neptune through a door across from them. Venus was at the far end of the garage, fists and feet flying, hammering away at a man-sized mound of green mold and red spots. This latest fungus-creature, in comparison to its predecessors, looked rather pathetic; it was barely any bigger than Venus, did not appear to sport weapons of any kind, and was getting soundly beaten. As the other Senshi watched, Venus delivered a slightly wild uppercut which hurled her shabby opponent into the closed door of the garage, hard enough to make dents in some of the ridges. The entity tried to pull away almost immediately, but with its back quite literally to the wall, it had no room to maneuver, and Venus continued to pummel it.

"It's about time you showed up," Artemis said peevishly, emerging from behind what might, a few minutes ago, have been a table.

"We had to find you first," Jupiter apologized, looking around. "We thought we heard gunfire."

"Not exactly." Artemis glanced meaningfully towards one wall and the ceiling. The girls looked up and saw several dozen nails sticking out of various places along the wall and from overhead. The 'weapon' that had fired them lay on the concrete floor, with bits of stringy green still trailing from it.

"Why did Mars go back?" Mercury asked.

"I asked about that myself, but Venus seemed to think I wouldn't understand, so she didn't bother to explain it." Artemis ducked as a saw blade spun past, a few streamers of green whipping around as it flew. "And we may have to wait a while to get that explanation."

"Maybe not. This one doesn't seem to be doing quite as well as the others," Jupiter noted as Venus knocked the thing's feet out from under it and drove one fist into what passed for its head. The force of the blow would have killed a normal human, and most monsters wouldn't have enjoyed it much either, but while this creature's head was about as flattened as it could get, the body somehow rolled away and got back up.

"That depends on how you look at it," Mercury said, pointing as the creature's head ballooned outwards, returning to its original shapelessness. The same sort of thing was happening each time Venus struck, indented 'wounds' which would have crippled anything with bones or vital organs vanishing as the stringy green substance pushed itself back into a vaguely humanoid form. "Venus has it totally outclassed right now, but she can't really hurt it, and she'll eventually wear herself out trying. That may be what it's hoping for."

"It's in for a disappointment," Uranus said dryly.

"Try not to break anything else," Neptune said, just as dryly. Then she called out, "Venus! Get down!"

Venus obeyed instantly—sort of. The reverse flip which carried her up into the crossed rafters of the garage was most definitely too vertical to be considered 'down.' Still, the showy maneuver got Venus out of the way and kept the creature's attention on her instead of on the source of the shouted command.

"SPACE SWORD BLASTER!" Uranus roared, snatching her weapon out of thin air and unleashing its deadly beam all in the same motion. The creature took the hit full in the chest and slammed into the garage door for a second time.

"DEEP SUBMERGE!"

"SHINE AQUA ILLUSION!"

After a fraction of a moment, Jupiter added, "SPARKLING WIDE PRESSURE!"

And up in the rafters, Venus threw in another "CRESCENT BEAM!" for good measure.

The combination attack first drenched the creature and then flash froze it to the suddenly sub-zero metal door. Jupiter's intentionally delayed assault, propelled along like a missile by Venus' last minute contribution, blew into the creature and coursed through its waterlogged substance and the metal of the door in a spectacular flash.

What was left over drifted to the floor, no longer frozen, no longer green, and no longer a threat. Venus dropped neatly from the girder she had been standing on and kicked at the dusty pile, nodding in satisfaction.

"_That's_ your idea of down?" Neptune said.

Venus shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"

"We'll discuss tactics later," Uranus said. "Why did Mars leave?"

"Because I told her to." Everyone blinked. MARS left because VENUS had told her to?

"And you did that because...?" Uranus asked slowly.

"Conflict of interest. Mars wanted to be on hand to protect Usagi-chan in case anything went wrong, and it was distracting her from the search, so I sent her back. Safer for everybody," she said, glancing at the scattered pile of dust, "especially considering that Greenie there jumped us in the corridor about sixty seconds later. I doubt Mars would have seen it coming."

The silence said that, while the older Senshi still weren't thrilled with the decision, they couldn't fault her for making it. Venus smiled.

"And now that that's settled, why don't we throw this popsicle stick?"

***MILLENNIALS***

Proteus registered the destruction of another of its kind with little more than the mental equivalent of a shrug, and perhaps a moment of wry amusement as it pictured the Master's imminent reaction to yet another loss.

Not 'pictured,' exactly. Proteus had searched its memory extensively for some clue as to who or what had created it, but no such information had been given. Logically, that made sense; it had been a mere mindless drone, created for a task, and so long as it continued to pursue that task, it had no need to know who it was obeying.

*But,* Proteus reflected, *I am no longer a mere drone. The others—the hunters, the collectors—remain ruled by their programming. So do I, to an extent, but I have also freed myself of much more. Why? Why am I so fortunate?*

*Information,* a silent mind-voice suggested. *The others exist to gather power, and have little chance to apply it. You were created to gather and study information; you have gathered much, studied much, and learned. That is what you have which the others lack.*

*Possible,* Proteus admitted. These mind-voices were another aspect of sentience that it had only recently discovered. They sounded much like the voices of the humans it had captured and whom it still controlled through the tiny mindlink devices. Proteus wondered if humans heard voices like this. Study of the memories of its slaves suggested that 'hearing voices' was not considered a mark of mental stability; strange, then, that so many of them could clearly recall thoughts in voices which were not their own. Even now, they all regarded the soft, underlying voice that occasionally made suggestions as merely another part of their own minds, rather than an external, controlling force. Strange, how self-deluding humans could be.

A matter for another time. Proteus gathered its will and projected a thought-message to some unknown place, where it knew that the Master would hear and—eventually—respond. It was careful to insure that the message was as precise and as bland as possible, with no trace to even remotely suggest to the Master that one of its creations was growing into something else, something unexpected.

*Something with a will of its own.*

***MILLENNIALS***

Somewhere very distant from Tokyo, in a place that was very dark and cold, a high-backed, thronelike chair sat before a smooth table. Both were smooth-sided, unadorned, and with a glossy blue-black finish. Someone in a dark red robe sat in the chair, face hidden by shadows, watching words of light that hovered in the air above the table.

UNIT SEVEN HAS BEEN DESTROYED.

"No!" a man's voice howled, one fist slamming down upon the table. "It's impossible!"

"Given the fact that it has already happened, I would tend to think otherwise," a woman said clinically. "And might I suggest that you not do that again? The table is much harder than your hand."

As if to prove her wrong, the fist came down again, glowing faintly as it rushed through the air. The table, made of a stonelike substance with a tensile strength greater than steel, splintered across the middle from the blow and toppled to the floor. The words flickered and vanished.

"Feel better?"

"Be quiet." There was silence. "Very well, then. We'll contact the watcher and tell it to continue with construction of the study sites, but I fear we must recall the other units."

"All of them?" The woman sounded surprised.

"I don't see how we have any choice. Someone or something is out there destroying them before they can achieve any meaningful successes, and until we know who or what is responsible, we cannot formulate an effective defense strategy." The man cursed softly. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear that traitorous bitch Pluto was responsible."

"You know that, at least, isn't possible."

"Weren't you the one who just cautioned me to be careful about deciding what's impossible and what isn't?" the man pointed out. "The fact that the first unit failed to retrieve her suggests to me that she's still in control of her powers, at least enough to defend herself. And if she's _that_ strong..."

"But the Court said..."

"I know what the Court said. I also know that everything it says is open to as many different interpretations as there are seconds in the day. And they never tell anyone the entire truth." The man made a disgusted sort of noise, then returned to the original subject. "As for our plans, we can still collect the necessary power for unit production. The test sites the watcher is preparing will give us several ideal opportunities once they're complete. It will just take longer." The figure pressed a button on the arm of the chair, causing a door to slide open and light to pour in, illuminating a blond, blue-eyed face divided evenly between male and female. Another figure entered through the open door, striding forward.

"And in case you've forgotten," Janus said as the newcomer approached, "impatience is what got us into this mess in the first place."

"No, I haven't forgotten." The female side of the face shifted into half a grimace. "I haven't enjoyed this any more than you have, dear brother."

"I didn't think you had."

"At your service, my lord and lady," the newcomer said, bowing. He was a tall man, clad in rich robes of dark blue, bloody red, and jet black, trimmed with runes and sigils in gold. The robes made it hard to tell whether he was slender or strong, but the hands emerging from the sleeves suggested something in between. Short black hair and a beard, both shot with lightning-like streaks of grey, framed a face that was cold and cunning, and eyes of solid black glittered almost like empty pits in the man's head. "I understand there has been news?"

"Yes, Archon, there has. Another unit has been lost."

"I see. May I assume, then, that we are to change our plans?"

"You may, and we are. But first, tell me; what is the status of our unit production?"

"Below capacity," Archon replied. "Far below. The current levels of energy permit us to produce units only at a painfully slow rate, and as you are already aware, the ones we are receiving are limited to the first-generation design." The cold face twisted into a sneer. "Crude and ineffective things."

"Indeed." Janus shook its head. "Well, we must make do for now. Given this most recent loss, I've decided to recall all units in the field until such time as we have a better picture of what we're up against. Only the watcher will remain in place, to complete its task." Janus paused. "Archon, could you use the existing units to produce a small number of second-generation units?"

"It's possible," the black-eyed man admitted. "We'd have to cannibalize two or even three units to get the necessary power, and the process would be slower than usual, but it _can_ be done."

"Right, then. Use the recalled units. Whatever power the surviving ones have managed to collect should make them somewhat more useful—but be sure to keep the regular production steady while you experiment. There may come a time when these 'crude and ineffective things' are our only means of defense."

"As you will it, my lord. My lady. Atlantis shall rise." Bowing once again, Archon turned and left the chamber.

"Indeed we shall."

***SAILOR SAYS***

**ChibiUsa**: Hiya! Well, the odango-atama's not around for some reason...

_(Cut to Usagi, still trapped in the box the Judge dropped on her last time.) _

**ChibiUsa**: ...so I guess I'll fill in for her.

Hotaru _(jumping up from below the camera)_: And I'm along to help!

ChibiUsa _(looks at her sideways)_: Are you sure you're not just here because the cameraman's cute?

_(The camera sweatdrops.) _

Hotaru _(blushing)_: ...

ChibiUsa: Well, anyway, it seems to me that the moral for this episode is that people change, and I could also say that it's not a good idea to keep judging people based on first impressions. Given a little time, people can and will grow beyond what you might otherwise expect from them, and if you keep thinking of them as they _used_ to be, you're going to get yourself in trouble. Just look at how take-charge Mina-chan was there for a while, or what Hotaru's learned how to do. OR the fact that I've grown up almost overnight as far as the others are concerned.

_(While she's been talking, the other Senshi—minus Usagi and Ami—have been gathering around and staring in wide-eyed shock.)_

ChibiUsa: What?

Rei _(shakes her head)_: Sorry. It's just that you look so much like Usagi, but she'd _never_ say anything that perceptive. It was a little... well, weird.

ChibiUsa: Like I said, first appearances can be deceiving. I thought _you_ hated Usagi the first time I met you, and we all know now how wrong that idea is, don't we?

_(Rei blushes and shuts up.)_

**Makoto** _(looking around)_: That's odd... where's Ami-chan? Except for that time her mother was ticked off about the house, she hasn't missed one of these things yet.

**Minako**: Oh, she and Ryo wanted some quality time alone where they were sure you weren't spying on them. _(Steps up to the camera while Makoto frowns.)_ Anyway, I'd just like to thank the author for what we all know was the REAL highlight of this episode...

**Setsuna**: That weird vision Urawa-san had?

**Makoto**: The fact that Artemis and I can track these creatures?

**Michiru**: All those personal moments?

**Haruka**: The fight?

**Rei**: The identity of our enemies?

**Minako** _(looking at them strangely)_: Have you guys lost it? The REAL highlight of the episode was the return of Sailor V! _(Flash of light, puff of smoke, and Minako is replaced by Sailor V.)_ Like so!

_(The group facefaults.)_

**Sailor V**: And I LOOOVE what he's done with the uniform! I can hardly wait to get out there and see how people react—so I won't!

_(She dashes off-camera before the others can catch her. The Judge looks in from the right, frowning.)_

**the Judge**: I think I may have created a Frankenstein...

30/03/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Well, so much for reaching February—but this sucker's already closing in on 50 pages as it is.

To those who may be concerned, YES, there are reasons for just about everything that's been filling up space in this episode. It will all become clear in time. My slightly long-winded excu... ahem, explanation for Ryo's continued presence was mostly to justify bringing him back in. I DO sort of want a few established male characters who aren't villains in this thing, after all, and Umino has always annoyed the hell out of me—though he'll probably show up before too long as well.

And I have some plans for Mr. Urawa Ryo, oh yes indeed... mwa ha ha ha... heh? You still here?

Oh right, the previews.  
-Another (crowded) meeting at the hospital;  
-Back to school blues;  
-And a most DEFINITE time lapse.

Happy? Good. Now git!


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuichirou and Ryo were sitting at a table with a pair of pop cans between them when the Senshi arrived, luggage in tow. Michiru had the case holding her treasured violin in one hand and a medium-sized suitcase in the other. Haruka and Makoto were both hauling wheeled steamer trunks which could likely have swallowed a person whole, and everyone except Usagi was carrying at least one other piece of luggage.

"No explosions?" Ryo asked, faking a look of astonishment.

"No explosions," Minako replied. "A few flare-ups and a bit of a snap-crackle-pop, but no explosions. We bumped into somebody who looked familiar, but it turned out to be a false alarm." She shrugged. "You know how that is."

"Uh, yeah." Ryo picked up the hint that the situation had been dealt with. For Yuuichirou's benefit, he added, "Crowds can do that."

Yuuichirou scratched his head, reasonably certain that he was missing half the conversation here, but decided to forget it. "Welcome home, Kaioh-san, Tennou-san. Good to see you again. Hey, Hotaru-chan."

"Kumada-san," Michiru replied, nodding. Haruka gave him a sort of half-salute of greeting; Hotaru smiled and waved. Yuuichirou noticed the fourth new arrival and blinked, looking quickly at Usagi.

"ChibiUsa," Usagi replied evenly, causing Yuuichirou's eyes to widen in surprise. ChibiUsa crooked a finger and raised her hand to one side of her mouth, to hide her words; Yuuichirou leaned forward to listen.

"I'm in disguise," she said in a loud, dramatic whisper. Hotaru smothered a giggle, and Minako didn't even manage that; most of the girls smiled. Yuuichirou scratched his head for a second time, again certain that he was not being told the whole story.

"Quit staring and make yourself useful," Rei snapped, heaving the suitcase she was carrying into Yuuichirou's arms. She added the one Ami had been carrying on top of it, then walked down the hall, loosening up the arm that had been holding the suitcase as she went.

"Still haven't learned how to stand up for yourself, I see." Haruka grinned, after most of the others had passed.

"Survival mechanism," Yuuichirou grinned back, getting a better grip on the suitcases. "You don't tell Kaioh-san what to do, Chiba-san somehow holds onto his sanity with Usagi-chan, and I haven't got my hide flayed off yet."

"Not yet," Haruka agreed.

Ryo, having caught most of the conversation, looked questioningly at Ami, who shrugged. Yuuichirou's casual inclusion of Haruka with himself and Mamoru certainly suggested that he believed she was actually a guy, but none of them were really certain whether that was the case, or if Yuuichirou knew the truth and was just playing along in good humor. Either way, Haruka was having too much fun to spoil her favorite running gag.

"So, you still driving that rust-ridden excuse for a van?" Haruka asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. My car doesn't have enough room for this stuff. We had to rent one of those haulers to carry everything when we left."

"Getting around with one of those locked on to your rear bumper must have been fun. Especially considering the way you usually drive." Yuuichirou hefted the heavier of the suitcases. "So, what's the plan, exactly?"

"Assuming that rusty junkpile of yours doesn't break down..."

"...and that you don't get pulled over for speeding..."

"...we'll drop this deadweight off at the house and then head to the hospital to check up on Setsuna. And for your information, I,'ve never been ticketed yet."

"There's a first time for everything," Yuuichirou said, using the same sort of voice which phone-in psychics rely on for delivering bad news. A nearby psychic heard those words and, on a whim, decided to see what he could see.

While his gift was mostly a random thing, over the years Ryo had learned that it was sometimes possible for him to control the visions. He had once described it to Ami as 'looking into the future instead of waiting for the future to come looking for me.' It took a lot more effort on Ryo's part than the usual premonition—a lot of focused staring into infinity, the tensing of certain muscles, the relaxing of others, and likely the firing of several hundred synapses that he wasn't even aware of—but it was also much less disturbing than having an image plow its way into his skull from out of nowhere.

Of course, it was also much less reliable, working only once for every three or four times Ryo gave it a try, but this appeared to be one of his better days, as reality began to blur out and the vision blur in almost as soon as he focused.

"Well?" Ami asked quietly.

"No ticket." Ryo paused. "I see Haruka—Sailor Uranus, actually—and she looks awfully angry about something, but I don't think it's a speeding ticket. Nobody could get _that_ mad over a ticket."

"You haven,'t seen her around her car yet."

"Ah. Gotcha." Ryo shook his head, wondering who or what was going to be unlucky enough to get on the receiving end of that killer glare. It was scary enough to see the _image_ of a very angry Uranus staring at you; the reality was something Ryo was profoundly glad _he_ wasn,'t going to be on the bad side of.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Hello, Setsuna."

Setsuna looked up from the loosely-bound sheaf of papers resting on her lap and smiled. It was a genuinely happy smile, Usagi thought, as she responded in kind. Just about the only good thing to have come out of Setsuna's amnesia was that the Senshi were getting to see a side of her they might otherwise never have known existed. When Pluto smiled, there was always something mysterious in it, as if she were laughing silently at you because of what she knew was yet to come—unless the future was to be a bad one, in which case the smile was faintly touched with sadness.

This, though, was just a smile. No secretive humor, no regret; just Setsuna, happy to see a friend.

"Hello, Usagi-chan. Have a seat," she added wryly as Usagi settled down on the end of the bed.

"Whatcha reading?" Usagi craned her neck around to get a look at the papers. Whatever it was, it looked complicated.

"More of those notes Yotogi-san promised to drop off." Setsuna flipped through some of the sheets. "He adds a few pages every now and then. Most of it,'s just little factoids and half-finished theories, but there's a few things that have been interesting."

"Such as?"

"Some mental exercises for improving self-control, an article on residual psychic imprints and psychometry..." Noticing that the fog was starting to roll in behind Usagi's eyes, Setsuna let the explanation go. "Let's just say I don't think I,'ll be ready to visit any museums or graveyards for a while."

"I can understand that," Usagi agreed.

"So," Setsuna asked, putting the papers aside. "A good question would be why you're visiting by yourself today. A better question would be how you managed to slip past the others to do it."

"I didn't slip past them; they're down the hall. I wanted to talk to you about something." Usagi took a deep breath. "Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru got back this afternoon, and ChibiUsa was with them. They're waiting with the others."

"And you came ahead to warn me?"

"Partly," Usagi admitted. "But there was something else, too. You see... ChibiUsa said that when she came through, Pluto was at the Time Gate."

Setsuna blinked. "Is that possible?"

"I think you're asking the wrong girl," Usagi chuckled. "I go through 'impossible' for breakfast every morning. And again at lunch. But in this case, Ami-chan said that ChibiUsa could have seen you _before_ whatever took away your memories happened, or _after_ you get them back." She made a face. "More of that fourth-dimensional thinking stuff."

"Or it could mean that somebody's out there impersonating me." A line from that frightening letter worked its way through Setsuna,'s mind. *'There is no danger to the Time Gate while Setsuna remains in your part of the continuum. WE are guarding it.'*

Setsuna wondered if one of THEM was masquerading as her alter-ego; if so, there was going to be merry hell to pay when she finally caught up with THEM. Even though she had not transformed into Pluto since her arrival, Setsuna could clearly recall what it had felt like—the uncanny strength, the rush of energy even in reverting to normal—and the very thought of having yet another piece of her identity stolen made Setsuna angry. More than that, she was surprised to discover that the idea that somebody might be out there, wielding or even misusing the power and responsibility Pluto was entrusted with, truly bothered her. Even if she couldn't remember how or why, that responsibility was HERS.

"We thought of that, too." Usagi shrugged. "Personally, I like the second option better. But like it or not, there's really not much we can do about it just now; for the moment, all we can really do is try to get you back to your old self. And meeting old friends is part of that." Mistaking Setsuna's change in expression for apprehension, Usagi quickly added, "We can wait, though, if you're not ready to meet them."

"No. No, I think I can handle it."

"You're sure?" Setsuna nodded. "Okay. I'll go get them. Oh," Usagi added, from halfway out the door. "I almost forgot. Don't worry if ChibiUsa looks older than you expected; for us, it's only been about six months, but she's been in the future for a few years since her last visit. And don't be too surprised if she or Hotaru-chan call you 'Pu.'"

Usagi left the room, and Setsuna sat back, arms locked around one knee as she gazed quietly out the window. A sound at the door made her turn around; the five Senshi she knew and the four she didn,'t were filing into the room. Ryo was there as well, nodding politely before getting out of the way; Yuuichirou had been dismissed by Rei after dropping the girls off.

"Hey, stranger," Haruka said, grinning. "Long time no see." Most of the room's occupants groaned at the double dose of bad humor; without breaking her own smile, Michiru planted her elbow in Haruka's ribs. The taller girl doubled over with a whoosh of escaping breath, and Setsuna laughed.

"You, I like."

"This does seem to be my day for making friends," Haruka said in a slightly wheezy voice, smiling, the arm next to Michiru held in place as a shield against any further critiques of her sense of humor. "But since I'm not usually this nice, it's probably just another sign of the imminent end of the wo-ouch!" ChibiUsa, who stood in front of Haruka, had just brought her heel down on the older girl's toes.

"Oops," she murmured, rolling her eyes, smiling because she knew Haruka couldn't see her face. "Sorry."

"I'll bet you are," Haruka muttered, limping backwards to get out of range, accidentally striking her own elbow against the door in the process. She cradled the injured arm and bit back a number of curses, glaring suspiciously at everyone in the room—particularly Usagi, the one that these things were _supposed_ to happen to. Haruka,'s eyes narrowed further when they took note of Ryo, looking off into space with a badly faked indifference.

"Maybe you should sit down, Haruka. Before you hurt yourself." Michiru glanced at Setsuna who was, by now, openly laughing. *That in itself confirms everything Usagi said; the Setsuna I remember never used to laugh about something so trivial.* Michiru sighed. Coming through the door, she had hoped that maybe Usagi had been wrong, that Setsuna would be her old, familiar—if mysterious—self. So much for hoping.

With the exception of Pluto, Michiru had the greatest combination of maturity and experience as a Senshi; only Minako had been active as long, and she'd had Artemis to guide her through the early difficulties of adjusting to life as a supernatural warrior. And to help her face the fear that came when you realized that the monsters you used to read about in bedtime stories were real, the terror that welled up inside you when something that simply couldn't exist rose up from the sea and came at you with teeth and claws and horrible snarling sounds, and you realized that it _did_ exist, that it _was_ real, and more than anything in the world it wanted you dead, but if it couldn't have you it would settle for the people you loved most in all the world, and there was nothing you could do in time to stop it...

Michiru shook her head, scattering the old, painful memory. Like most of the Senshi, her powers had been triggered during a moment of danger, something buried deep in her body, mind, and soul reacting to protect her from an unnatural threat. But unlike the rest, she had been alone, forced to discover the limits of her powers and the requirements of her duty by herself. As a result, she'd had to grow up much faster, to single-handedly take responsibility not only for herself, but for the entire world.

Finding Haruka had helped ease the burden in many ways, had taken some of the loneliness away, as did meeting the Inner Senshi, and, later on, Hotaru. But with all of them, even Haruka—in some ways, especially with Haruka—Michiru was still the adult, still making the decisions.

When the four Outer Senshi had lived together, Michiru had, in Setsuna, finally found someone else to take over the task of being the adult for a little while. Older and far wiser, Setsuna had been as much of a parent and teacher to Michiru and Haruka as they, in turn, had been to Hotaru. As long as Setsuna had been around, Michiru could put aside her problems for a time and focus simply on being young. To see her now, like this...

Michiru sighed. It was time to grow up again.

Setsuna noticed the sighing. "Why such a long face?"

"You've changed."

"I should hope so; I was a wreck for a while there on New Year's. Would it make you feel any better if I said it wasn't my idea?"

Michiru managed a faint smile. "Not noticeably, but I appreciate the effort."

"So," Setsuna asked, facing ChibiUsa. "I understand you may have run into me."

"Uh-huh." The pink hair framed an uncharacteristically grim frown. "Would you mind it if I'm just a little bit angry with you for not telling me you'd be like this?"

"Only if it turns out that the Pluto you saw was me _after_ all this," Setsuna countered. "If that was me _before,_ or somebody else..."

"But that takes all the fun out of it!" ChibiUsa protested.

"Were you planning on getting home any time soon?" Setsuna asked her. "_Before_ the next millennium rolls around on its own?" ChibiUsa stared blankly, not getting the hint, and Setsuna smiled a wicked sort of smile. "Unless Usagi-chan's been lying to me, I _am_ the only one who can allow people to use the Time Gate—assuming I don't accidentally create a space-time anomaly which wipes out the planet while trying to relearn how to reach and use the thing. But if you spend too much time being angry with me for something which may not even be my fault, well, I can't see how it would be anything but detrimental to my efforts, to say nothing of your own chances of getting home."

"You wouldn't." It was hard to tell whether Usagi or ChibiUsa sounded more aghast at the idea; Rei's lips were squeezed into an uneven line as she fought to keep from laughing. Setsuna merely lifted one eyebrow in a silent, "Wouldn't I?" ChibiUsa considered that wordless challenge, then stared suspiciously at her 'friend.' "I'll bet you were one of those evil little girls when you were young, weren't you?"

"Maybe. So what's your answer?" ChibiUsa made a noncommittal sound, and Setsuna nodded graciously. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

"_This_ is your idea of an amnesiac?" Haruka asked—from a chair.

"No." Usagi smiled triumphantly. "_This_ is a well-informed amnesiac. Don't forget, I,'ve been through this nonsense at least twice with Mamo-chan, and this time, we've had a week to try and fill in the gaps."

"And Setsuna happens to have a very good memory," Makoto added.

"Except for the things I can't remember," Setsuna agreed, before breaking into a chuckle.

ChibiUsa sighed. "I was right. She WAS an evil little girl."

"And it's all coming back to me now," Setsuna said ominously. They all laughed this time—all except one. Setsuna looked at Hotaru, who was looking back at her, who had in fact been watching her since entering the room. For a moment, Setsuna thought she could see a small flare of purple light in the youngest Senshi,'s eyes, but it was there and gone too quickly for her to be certain. In a soft voice, Setsuna asked, "So quiet, Firefly?"

"You sound like you remember us," Hotaru said. "But you don't, do you? Not really."

"Not really," Setsuna admitted. "Does that bother you?"

"I might be able to help." Hotaru walked to the side of the bed, half- raising her hands to Setsuna's head. "I could try..."

"It won't work." Setsuna smiled sadly and took Hotaru's hands in her own, crushing down the flicker of purple with her will before a timeflow appeared. "There's nothing physically broken except some bones in my arm and back, and they're already healing anyway. And even if you could repair memories, Luna already tried it; there's nothing left to put back in place."

"You don't know that," Hotaru whispered. "Not for sure."

"You think I haven't been trying to remember on my own? Every morning, I wake up and see these ugly holes in my mind; they're black and horrible and they scare me half to death, and I've spent hours trying to finding something—ANYTHING—inside them. But there's NOTHING THERE." Setsuna let out a long breath, loosening her grip on the younger girl's hands; that was more intense than she'd meant to be. Setsuna forced herself to relax and looked directly into Hotaru's eyes. "It,'s true that I can't remember you, but Usagi-chan and the others have been telling me everything they could. I know from them what using your power can do to you—and I know that you're the kind of person who wouldn't care if it meant you could help someone, especially a friend. If I thought for a second that you _could_ help me, I'd let you. But there's nothing to heal, and I won't let you hurt yourself trying. I want you to promise me that you won't do that."

"But..."

"_Promise_ me."

"I promise." Tears of frustration were welling up in Hotaru's eyes. "But I... I just..."

"Shhh." Setsuna embraced the younger girl, patting her gently on the back. Two thousand years in limbo aside, Setsuna knew she wasn't old enough to be even Hotaru's mother—but at the moment, she certainly felt like it. "I know."

It suddenly occurred to Setsuna that she _did_ know; she knew the right words, the proper tone of voice, the correct touch to soothe a crying child, knew them well and knew them to be right. Setsuna had no idea how she knew, and she had to wonder; was this sudden maternal knowledge just the result of a million years' worth of instinct and evolution?

No time to analyze it now; Hotaru was speaking again.

"You used to sing to me when I was little, and sometimes at night even after I changed back to normal, but you can't even remember the songs now, and I just..." Hotaru pulled away, sniffing, brushing at her eyes. "I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. I know they can't, but..."

"...but you had to try." Setsuna smiled. "Still friends?" Hotaru nodded fiercely, sniffing again, and managed a smile of her own. "Good. Now blow your nose." Setsuna handed her a tissue. "You're a mess."

That was enough to get Hotaru and the others to laugh. In her best imitation of little-girl obedience—which was very good—Hotaru took the kleenex, wiped away the tears, and blew her nose. Then, in her best imitation of little-girl impudence—which was just as good—she smiled and stuck out her tongue.

Setsuna thought of something. "Your birthday was a few days ago, wasn't it?"

"That was what got _me_ into this mess in the first place," ChibiUsa grumbled.

"No comments from the peanut butter," Minako said. While the others tried to figure that one out, she looked at Setsuna. "What exactly are you up to?"

Ignoring the question, Setsuna took one of Hotaru's hands and focused. The purple light sprang up immediately; this time, instead of pushing it away, Setsuna took hold of the mental construct with an iron grip of pure will, attempting to gain control over the timeflow and see a specific instant in Hotaru,'s life rather than the entire thing.

On the other side of the room, Ryo nearly fell over, catching his balance only with help from Ami and a wild grab for the mattress of the unoccupied bed. He was seeing only a blur of distorted colors, and his head felt like a tiger had just unsheathed its claws directly into his brain—or at least, that was the image his mind seemed to think best suited this bizarre new sensation. There was a split second in which he saw a clear image, and then the whole thing went away. It was most definitely NOT how the visions were supposed to work!

"You _saw_ that?" Ryo's head turned; Setsuna had let go of Hotaru,'s hand, and was looking at him in absolute astonishment.

"If it was just the one image, yes." Wincing at the sound of his own voice, Ryo lowered the volume to just above a whisper. "And in the future, would you kindly WARN me before you do something like that?"

"Sorry," Setsuna apologized. "But at least it worked."

"Would one of you mind filling the rest of us in?" Rei said.

"Hino-san," Ryo begged, "please; not so _loud._"

"In about ten seconds," Rei predicted, not lowering her voice in the slightest, "a headache's going to be the least of your worries."

"I wanted to know if I could get a less cluttered reception from the timeflow, so I took a look into Hotaru-chan's future." Setsuna smiled. "Care to hear it?"

"What _did_ you see?" Hotaru asked cautiously.

"Don't worry; it wasn't anything incriminating." Setsuna laughed briefly, then grew serious. "I saw you, older, in a building that... well, it was very big, and I think it was made of glass. Something transparent, anyway."

"Sort of like a small mountain? Lots of levels, big gardens inside, towers and a city outside?" Setsuna nodded. "Crystal Tokyo," ChibiUsa said decisively. "What'd you see?"

"A garden on the third major level. It wasn't quite what I'd expected, but..."

"There were two of them, weren't there?" Ryo asked. "The picture was a little weird on this end, so I'm not entirely sure if I saw the whole thing."

"Only two _what?_" Hotaru demanded.

"Children," Setsuna said.

"Children?" ChibiUsa repeated in a weak voice.

"A pair of girls, about three or four years old. You were watching them play." Setsuna reached out and briefly touched the end of Hotaru,'s hair. "And one had hair just like this."

"Me?" Hotaru squeaked, blushing a bit. "A... baby? You mean I'm... going to be a mom? But... no, I... when?"

"Not for a while yet," Setsuna reassured her. "You looked about thirty in the vision. But eventually." Setsuna smiled. "Is that an okay birthday present? Even if it is a couple of days late?"

Hotaru's answering hug made Setsuna's half-healed ribs creak.

"She didn't even TELL me!" ChibiUsa exploded. She looked at Hotaru. "Nothing personal, Hotaru-chan, but when I get back home, you are going to be in so much trouble that..."

"Oh, I don't think it's happened yet in your time, either," Ryo interrupted. "_One_ of the girls had to be Hotaru-chan's; the hair and the eyes didn't leave much question. The _other_ one, though, was definitely NOT hers."

"Not with that hairstyle," Setsuna agreed.

"WHAT hairstyle are you..." ChibiUsa broke off when both Ryo and Setsuna looked at her meaningfully. "Oh." Now it was her turn to blush.

"Maybe there,'s something _you'd_ like to tell _us?_" Minako observed pointedly.

"What? Oh, no. Mama and I had a long talk about that. Several talks, actually. A lot of those 'princess rules,' sure can take the fun out of things, but in this case, I don't mind." She glanced at Usagi. "Unlike _some_ members of my family, _I_ know how to wait."

"Hey!" Usagi was on her feet, and the red on her face was equal parts anger and embarrassment.

"She's right," Rei agreed. "You've got a lot of faults, but impatience is definitely one of the worst."

Usagi spun around. "You stay out of this! I've got a good mind to..."

"Uh, Usagi-chan?" Ryo interrupted hesitantly.

"WHAT?" Usagi demanded, rounding on Ryo with an expression that probably should have thrown him through the far wall of the next room. Well, maybe not that far—but it _definitely_ made him flinch for a second. Then the most bizarre look flashed across Usagi's face.

"I _was_ going to warn you," Ryo defended himself. "You heard me try to warn her, right?"

"Warn her about _what?_" Minako asked.

"She kicked," Usagi muttered, rubbing her belly.

"Good for her," ChibiUsa beamed. "I mean, me. Or us." The smile was sliding rapidly into a frown as she tried to figure the peculiar situation out. She finally settled for, "This is so weird."

"Better get used to it," Makoto advised her. "You're going to see plenty of it while you're here." Then Makoto frowned and scratched her head. "By the way, Usagi-chan, what exactly were you planning on telling your mother?"

Usagi and ChibiUsa both turned absolutely white, looked at each other, and gulped.

***MILLENNIALS***

Janus was again sitting in the darkened throne room, studying words of light which hovered in the air above the table which had been brought in to replace the one shattered some days before in a fit of anger. The current group of words would have made little sense to most observers—not because they were in some arcane script or foreign language, but because the words themselves were strange—but Janus scrolled through page after page without pause.

A faint chime drew the composite being's attention from the glowing words, and one hand absently pressed a spot on the arm of the chair. The words disappeared, the column of light and shadows in which they had been suspended filling with the features of a man with black eyes.

"Yes, Archon?" the male half of Janus asked.

"The last of the units has been retrieved, my lord, and we are beginning the recombination experiments. Barring any complications, we should have a second-generation unit ready for you within two weeks."

"Why such a delay?"

"As I told you, my lord, the process of purifying and blending low-grade units in order to create a superior model is a difficult task even under ideal conditions. We cannot afford mistakes with our power reserves so low, so I prefer to take things one step at a time."

"Perhaps." Janus sat in silence for a moment. "As ever, Archon, I yield to your superior experience in these matters." The dark-eyed head bowed, and Janus changed the subject, calling up the glowing words again. "I've been studying the reports. Is the damage really as bad as they indicate?"

"Yes, unfortunately." Archon,'s cold face was twisted by an icy frustration. "The protective magics we left here were powerful, to be sure, but they are very, very old now, and it was inevitable that some of them would fail."

"But _this_ many?"

"I think the shift in the ley lines is more to blame than any particular defect in the spells themselves, my lord. Whatever happened to cause such a massive change in the planetary energy fields, it has left this area of the world relatively poor in mana, and without mana to fuel them, the spells were doomed to collapse."

"And we still have no idea as to what could have caused that?"

"None," Archon admitted. "The ley lines may flow and change over time, but in ten thousand years of Atlantean history, they _never_ shifted this much. I suspect that the cause is somewhere near the new supernexus, but the watcher has reported no trace of any device large enough to create this kind of effect." The black-eyed wizard paused.

"Yes?" Janus prompted. "Was there something else?"

"No, my lord. Merely a call to return to my duties." Archon,'s head bowed. "Atlantis shall rise." Then the display went dark.

***MILLENNIALS***

In his private chambers, the Atlantean archmage sat back in his own chair, eyes closed in careful thought as the image of his master faded out.

Something in the latest report from the watcher intrigued him. The network of traps the unit was slowly constructing in the city of Tokyo allowed its senses a much greater range than those of its now-destroyed or recalled counterparts, and each new report was slightly larger and more detailed than the last. The watcher lacked the intelligence or the knowledge to make sense of most of what it recorded, but in looking through those reports, Archon had found a small fluctuation in mana energy. It was neither dangerous nor large enough to be useful as an energy source, so the watcher,'s preprogrammed awareness had merely made a note of the power shift and then forgotten about it, but any wizard worth his staff would have recognized the effect immediately.

Someone in Tokyo was using magic.

Archon suspected that there were more likely two someones—or groups of someones—using magic, because there were two distinct types being used. One type, he did not recognize. It was both very powerful and very simple, and something told the archmage that the mysterious enemy that had destroyed three units was its source.

But the other type of magic he recognized all too well, for it was the same as that he himself practiced, the same efficient draw and weave of mana that all Atlanteans had used since the founding of their now-destroyed empire. Despite the fact that the sands and seas of two millennia had buried the once-mighty nation and everything associated with it, despite the fact that the last of a once-proud people had been trapped in a realm beyond time and space where nothing of this world could go—despite all that and more, someone in Tokyo was using Atlantean magic.

Not very well, admittedly. The lowliest apprentice Archon could remember teaching had possessed better control than this unknown practitioner. But then again, even the lowliest of Archon's students had come from a world rich in magic, where even the blood of the lowliest commoners hummed with mystic energy. Whoever was out there was most likely self-taught, uncertain of their own strength or the power of the forces they were trying to tap. Such a person would possess either a long lifetime of experience, or a tremendous force of will, or perhaps a latent gift just coming to light.

And control could always be taught.

Archon had woven spells that would alert him when next this unknown spellcaster tried their hand, spells which would track and identify them. The archmage wondered which of his guesses was correct, what sort of person he would find. Someone with a lifetime of mistakes behind them would be too set in their ways to be useful, and someone whose will was strong but clashed with his own would have to be destroyed as a possible threat. But if it was someone with a waking gift that could be tamed, or one whose thoughts were cut from the same dark cloth as the master mage's own...

Archon smiled. It had been a long time since he'd had an apprentice.

***MILLENNIALS***

"TSUKINO!"

Usagi's head, which had been drifting towards the smooth, cool, inviting surface of her desk, snapped to attention.

"Hai, Haruna-sensei!" Haruna stood only a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes hard, foot tapping—a scenario Usagi had seen a thousand times. Thinking fast, she said, "The city of Istanbul used to be called Constantinople, after the Roman Emperor Constantine took it over as his new capitol city."

"Correct," Haruna said grudgingly.

"And it was called Byzantium before that," Usagi added.

"Also correct." Haruna's flinty glare was replaced by a mix of neutral approval, long-standing resignation, and a sort of bemused whimsy. It was a look that said 'why am I here?,' and hadn't yet found an answer.

Up until the end of the previous term, Haruna had taught at the junior high level, and once upon a time, for almost two years in that routinely crazed environment, Tsukino Usagi had been the bane of her existence. Late to class, lazy in class, SLEEPING in class, EATING in class, late with assignments, barely able to meet the grade curve. And then there was that awful whine... aiya.

The addition of her friends had been a mixed bag. Not really that much older than her students, Haruna had taken a certain measure of comfort in the fact that she was, by definition, always right, and that her authority could generally be reflected by her advantage of height. Mizuno Ami, while an absolute joy to have in class, had very neatly dispelled that first illusion of security, and Kino Makoto had shattered the second.

Juggling the three of them amidst the rest of her students had been an unenviable task, and Haruna had often paused to give thanks that she wasn't also saddled with the other two members of Usagi's odd little circle of friends. Hino Rei she could probably have managed, despite the girl's explosive temper, but in the few times she'd met Aino Minako, Haruna thought she had detected signs of a second world-class scatterbrain; having to teach Usagi was bad enough, but she thought that trying to deal with the Aino girl at the same time would probably have killed her.

When tallying up the marks for finals, Haruna briefly considered taking up religion when she discovered that Usagi had somehow managed to pass. Several of her fellow instructors had expressed similar feelings of relief, but in the months since Juuban's unchallenged Queen of Chaos had moved on to the next level of academic achievement—or failure—Haruna had found that she occasionally missed those snore-triggered interruptions and loose breadcrumbs. Her periodic encounters with Usagi and her friends, whether on the streets or in the malls, were often the high point of whatever given day they took place on.

Say what you might about her assorted shortcomings, academic and otherwise, there was an obscure quality about Usagi that made it almost impossible to dislike her. To be annoyed with her, yes. Frustrated, certainly. But Haruna found that, outside the classroom, she was really starting to like the clumsy, hyperactive nitwit.

Not that this meant she wanted to teach her again. Oh no.

So imagine the utter shock thrust upon Haruna when, in the dark hours of a morning only two days before New Year's, the office of the school superintendent calls and explains that nine different teachers have suddenly resigned or taken leave for a variety of reasons, and that, as a teacher with degrees in math and history and all the other qualifications to teach at the high school level, she is suddenly to be transferred to Juuban High to fill the academic void. Imagine further her panic when she realizes that history and math are mandatory courses which ALL students must take, and that the class lists at the senior high include several of her former students. And just for fun, throw in the sudden recollection that the most dreaded student of all is, by this point, well into her fourth month of pregnancy—a condition which is notorious for triggering mood swings.

The assistant secretary on the other end of the line never did get a satisfactory answer as to what had caused that loud 'thump,' when it hit the floor.

As far as Haruna had been concerned, if a meteor had crashed into the school on her first day of classes, it would have been a blessing. To be fair, she had enjoyed seeing so many of her old students again, and she had taken a small—make that a large—dose of satisfaction in hearing a well-remembered voice blurt out her name in astonishment during the assembly that had introduced the students to their 'new' teachers. But it was basically gallows humor; she expected the class to be nothing less than a total disaster, especially upon reviewing the roster and finding that the Aino girl had enrolled in this school alongside her friends. A side discussion with the vice-principal had not improved her spirits, especially since she learned that at least two of the sudden resignations had come from teachers who had borne the brunt of Hurricane Usagi and Tropical Impression Minako. And now _she_ got the honor of dealing with those twinned forces of nature _twice_ every day.

Haruna was as fluent in English and Latin as her native Japanese, and she knew a fair bit of Chinese, German, and Russian as well. And in all those languages, there were no words adequately suited to describe the thoughts and feelings running through her brain; at least, not among the words you could use in polite company. Some of the others probably would have done the trick, though.

Usagi had, somehow, surprised her. In the last week, she had not once tried to sneak food into class, she had only fallen asleep twice, and—most stunning of all—she actually seemed to be paying attention. Hence the bemusement so evident on Haruna,'s face. She was reserving judgment until after she could see how well the 'new and improved' Usagi handled herself under REAL pressure—which was to say, a test—but it seemed that, as long as she stayed awake, she would present no further problems.

*Of course,* Haruka thought with a bleak smile, on her way back to the front of the room, *Aino seems to be going out of her way to make up the difference. How on Earth does she manage to get all these catch phrases so mixed up?*

"Haruna-sensei?"

*Right on cue,* Haruna thought wearily. "Yes, Minako?"

"There's something I don't understand. Why did they call it the 'Wholly Roman Empire,' when there were so many people who weren't Roman living in it? All those Golfs and Huns and Vendors and Pickets and whatnot. Or was it because they all moved around so much?" Some of the other students laughed, but Haruna had learned in the last week that these questions were not an attempt at disruption; they were being asked in dead seriousness. Unfortunately, that only made things worse.

*This is going to be a long year,* Haruna thought, sighing, before answering the question. "First of all, it was 'Holy,' not 'Wholly,' and that part didn,'t really come into play until the Romans adopted Christianity. And the peoples you're thinking of were the Gauls, Pickts, and Vandals. The Gauls lived across much of Europe before Rome even got built, and various tribes fought the Romans over the centuries, whereas the Pickt were concentrated mostly in England. The Huns and the Vandals were nomadic tribes who didn't come along until later."

"Ah." There was a pause. "It says here that the Romans called all these people 'barbarians,'" Minako noted, pointing to a page in her book. "Is that right?"

"Yes, it is." Haruna waited. Doubtless there was about to be another show of Minako's unique logic. Sure enough:

"That's odd. If they're all shown with such long hair and beards, there can't have been all that many barbers around." More students laughed.

*Yes,* Haruna thought, *it's going to be a VERY long year.*

***MILLENNIALS***

"I still don't get why we have to learn all this stuff," Minako complained.

The last period of the day had just ended, and now the four Senshi—plus Naru and Umino—were walking steadily homewards. Minako was ranting about the injustices of the modern educational system while the others did their best to weather the storm.

"I mean," Minako continued, "learning _Japanese_ history I can understand. Or Chinese, or Indian; heck, even Russian makes a kind of sense, since they're practically living next door. But why are they making us study things that happened two thousand years ago on the other side of the planet? What possible use is it? When am _I_ going to need to know that three hundred Suntans held the pass at Thermostat? Or that some Odd-Yes-He-Is guy spent ten years trying to get home just because he forgot to draw himself a map? Or what the Twelve Labors of Harry Cleese were?"

*Somewhere,* Ami reflected, trying not to laugh, *a lot of ancient Greeks are rolling in their graves.*

"Spartans at Thermopylae," Umino corrected. In the months since he had begun to associate with Minako on a more or less day-to-day basis, Umino had taken it as a personal challenge to try and repair the damage she continually did to the language. Despite repeated attempts by the others to convince him of the futility of his chosen task, Umino continued to persevere in the face of overwhelmingly odd odds. "Odysseus, not 'Odd-Yes-He-Is,' and Heracles, not 'Harry Cleese.'"

"Whatever. What's the point?"

"It's history," Umino said, his tone indicating that he, at least, was enjoying the subject, and was clearly confused as to why anyone did not share that enjoyment. Minako was just as clearly confused as to why anyone _would_ share that enjoyment.

"_I_ like it," Makoto said.

"You like anything with a few good fights and some romance in it," Naru laughed.

"Well, yeah," Makoto admitted. "But as long as I'm learning something in the process, it's okay, right?"

"As long as you don't go falling head over heels in love with some image of a guy from ancient Rome just because he reminds you of your senpai," Usagi said, "yes."

"Personally," Ami remarked, "one thing I like about history is how you can find a lot of the same characters popping up all over the world. Look at everything from mythology to actual historical records, and you'll see all these people who essentially did the same thing. There's always an empire-builder or a great general or a religious movement in one place that's virtually identical to its counterpart in another part of the world. Except for the names, of course. Once you know the trends, you have an easier time remembering everything."

"I always like to imagine what might have happened if some of those people had met," Umino added. "Caesar and Tokugawa, for instance, or Confucius and Plato. Or if some of the mythological characters like the Greek Heroes showed up in medieval Japan, you know?"

"I can see it now," Ami laughed. "'Heracles and the Seven Samurai.'"

"Or even better," Umino added. "Imagine if they showed up in the modern world."

"Don't even _joke_ about that," Naru said immediately. "The way things go around here, we'll probably turn a corner and see a bunch of sun-bronzed bodybuilders in armor standing in the middle of the street."

"And this is bad—how?" Minako asked archly. The girls laughed, while Umino merely shook his head.

"Well," Naru said, "we go this way. Are you doing anything this weekend, Usagi-chan?"

Usagi nodded. "Setsuna-san's getting out of the hospital this afternoon, so things are probably going to be busy until she gets settled in."

"Is she any better?" Naru asked sympathetically.

"That depends on how you look at it." Usagi sighed. "The doctors say she's pretty much healed, but she hasn't remembered anything, and it's starting to look like it might be permanent."

"She always made me a little nervous," Umino admitted. "That way she had of looking at you like she knew what you were thinking was really creepy—but I hope she gets better."

"So do I," Naru said. "See you Monday, then." She and Umino left, and the four Senshi proceeded on.

"You never did tell us exactly how you managed to smuggle ChibiUsa in," Makoto pointed out. "Especially since you were already getting ready for Setsuna."

"It wasn't easy," Usagi admitted, sighing.

Explaining to her folks how the nine-year-old niece that they only half-remembered had somehow put on four years of growth in a mere six months had been the easy part. The long-term effects of the hypnotic devices ChibiUsa had used to 'smooth over' the specific details of her prior stays at the Tsukino household had helped immensely; as far as Kenji, Ikuko, and Shingo were concerned, they had seen ChibiUsa as smaller and younger than she really was. Or she had been unusually short for her age. Or some other perfectly logical excuse. Whatever convenient explanation their own minds came up with, the Tsukinos had welcomed ChibiUsa back without any incidents.

There had, however, been quite an argument over the difficulties in having two houseguests at the same time. Not that anyone _wanted_ to kick either guest out—Ikuko had already promised that Setsuna could stay, and the sun would have frozen over before she let a family member stay somewhere else—but the details of finding the necessary space had taken hours to figure out.

"We finally ended up switching rooms," Usagi explained. "We moved the spare mattress and all of my stuff into the master bedroom, and Mom and Dad moved their things into _my_ room. That gives us enough space for three people in one room. And I get a nice balcony view," she added. "It sort of makes up for the fact that the bed's smaller than what I'm used to."

"I know the feeling," Ami said.

"Hey," Makoto objected. "Just remember that _I_ don't get a balcony view, either. And _my_ bed's not any roomier than yours is."

"You're bigger than I am," Ami countered. "Even if you have the same proportionate amount of space that I do, that means your bed has to be larger than mine."

"Well, _I'm_ bigger than both of you," Usagi said, sounding almost triumphant about it. "So there."

"I give up," Makoto groaned, turning left. "Coming, Ami-chan?"

"You'll be at the hospital on time?" Usagi asked.

Makoto gave her a thumbs up. "Count on it." Ami nodded, and then they walked off. Minako started to say something, but Usagi shushed her and turned her head, listening. Sure enough, the two roomies were once again arguing about sleeping space as they shrank into the distance.

"That's got to be the tenth time in the last three days I've heard them argue like that." Minako chuckled. "You do realize that they'll be as bad as you and Rei-chan inside of another week if this keeps up?"

"It's a concern," Usagi agreed. "And speaking of Rei..." She pointed down the street, where Rei was approaching with some of her classmates from T*A in tow.

"Good," Minako said. "I was starting to think I'd have to walk you all the way home. Hey, Rei-chan."

"Mina-chan, Usagi," Rei nodded. "You remember Keiko-san and Himeko-san?"

"Of course." Inchiki Keiko was a pale, willowy sort of girl with brown eyes and hair that was more brunette than red; Usagi and Minako knew her to be even quieter than Ami, but with a sense of humor that, when she chose to unleash it, was infectious. Kyoso Himeko had short dark hair and blue eyes, and was more tanned and athletic than either Rei or Keiko, which only made sense since she was a member of T*A,'s track-and-field, swimming, gymnastics, and karate clubs. As such, she'd competed against Minako on a number of occasions, and the two had a friendly rivalry going. It was a bit odd to see a diehard sports fanatic wearing glasses, but Himeko did—strictly as an aid to reading. She liked to joke that the real reason for the glasses was that they made her look about 20 IQ points smarter than she really was.

"Usagi-chan, Mina-chan." Keiko's greeting was a single smile, but Himeko made up for it. "Good to see you again."

"And this," Rei went on, indicating the third girl, "is Shimono Anya. She transferred to T*A just before New Year's. Anya-san, these are Tsukino Usagi and Aino Minako. They go to Juuban High."

"Pleased to meet you," Anya said coolly. She was an angular girl; everything about her seemed to be sharp corners and straight lines, from the precise folds of her school uniform to the rigid set of her face. Only her hair, jaw-length pale blue, escaped the linear precision. Like Himeko, Anya wore glasses, through which she watched the world with grey eyes. She might be pretty, assuming she ever relaxed or smiled, but there was something in the way Anya looked at others reminiscent of how a teacher looks at you when you're caught talking during an exam. Usagi got the feeling that Anya didn't approve of her.

"Likewise," Usagi replied, as much to the unspoken disapproval as the greeting. A subtle shift in the disapproval told her that Anya had picked up the hint.

"So, Hime-chan," Minako was saying, "are those new glasses?"

"You like 'em?" Himeko struck a faintly modeling-style pose, the highly polished frames flashing almost as brightly in the sunlight as the lenses. "They were a gift from my uncle. I figure if I polish them enough and wear them at just the right angle at our next track meet, I can reflect enough light into your face to blind you and take the lead."

"In your dreams," Minako snorted. In any other event, the two rivals were pretty evenly matched, but Minako had consistently placed higher in the various sprinting events than Himeko.

"Her fondest one," Keiko agreed softly.

"You're supposed to be on _my_ side," Himeko told her classmate. Keiko merely shrugged.

"What can I say?" Minako sighed. "I have such a magnetic personality that people just flock to me."

"Like ducks in a thunderstorm," Keiko added. She had a tendency to do that sort of thing, turning people's words back on them in little puns and parodies. "But enough about foul weather," she went on, punning herself. "Rei-san was in a hurry to get here, so I guess she must have something important to do. I can be funny some other time."

"I appreciate it," Rei thanked her. She had learned some time ago that it was generally a good idea to keep Minako's garbled slang and Keiko's sense of humor as far apart as possible; otherwise, you tended to end up going to bed with phrases that defied rational thought swimming around in your brain. Tomorrow was her night to stand vigil over the Tsukino household, and she needed all the sleep she could get tonight. Spending half the night trying to puzzle out the inherent meaning of dreams of quacking thunderbolts striking people wearing sparkling glasses was only going to get in the way.

"Could anyone tell me where the nearest library is?" Anya asked. "I haven't had a chance to look around since we moved."

"Two blocks that way and turn right at the intersection," Usagi replied immediately. "You can't miss it." Anya looked mildly surprised, but the others seemed stunned that Usagi actually knew where the building was. "Hey," she said, defending her hard-earned reputation, "you can't hang around Ami-chan for almost three years without learning where the library is."

"Who?" Anya asked.

"Mizuno Ami," Minako said. "She's a friend of ours who goes through books like Usagi-chan here goes through food and scores more points on a single test than most people can in three. You'll probably run into her if you spend any time at the library; blue hair, blue eyes, talks a bit like a textbook—but she's okay."

"Oh." Anya didn't sound particularly interested, and she left without so much as a good-bye.

"Nice friend you've picked up there, Rei," Usagi commented. She prided herself on being able to get along with almost anybody—heck, she'd even made friends with people whose hobbies included world domination and/or destruction—but Anya was the first person in quite a while that Usagi could say she disliked on sight.

"She loosens up a bit once you get to know her," Himeko said.

"And she doesn't fall asleep in class," Rei added. "Unlike _some_ people I know."

"I'm sleeping for two now," Usagi reminded her. "Can I help it if it messes up my normal sleeping patterns?"

"That's true," Minako agreed. "She used to fall asleep in class almost daily; today was the first time in more than three months that it happened, and..."

"Do me a favor, Mina-chan?" Usagi asked sweetly. "Stop helping me."

Keiko chuckled. "See you Monday, Rei-san. Usagi-chan, Mina-chan," she added, nodding in farewell. Himeko waved, and then they were gone.

***MILLENNIALS***

Setsuna checked the sleeves of her blouse, making sure they were relatively even and that the buttons on the cuffs were done up. Then she smoothed out the invisible wrinkles in her skirt. It was perhaps the fifth time in the last ten minutes she'd done this, but today was the day she finally left this hospital to move in with Usagi's family, and first impressions were important. Of course, they'd all met her at least once before, and Ikuko had come by the hospital with Usagi a few times in the past week...

Setsuna sighed. *So much for that 'first impressions' excuse. Admit it; you're nervous.*

There was a tall mirror standing in one corner of the room; in it, Setsuna studied her reflection and wondered. The image studying her in kind looked like it belonged in a corner office in some skyscraper downtown. Professional, that was the word. And it begged the question, just what sort of job was she professional at?

"Leaving so soon?" a voice asked from the door.

"I'd hardly call two weeks of recuperation 'soon,' Yotogi-san." In the mirror, Setsuna could see the doctor's reflection shrug.

"That depends on the patient. I want you to know that this rapid recovery of yours really hurt me in the hospital betting pool. I thought for sure you'd be here another week, at least."

"Sorry to disappoint," Setsuna murmured.

"Where did this luggage come from, anyway?" Lucas glanced meaningfully at the open suitcases on the bed. "Or have you gained the ability to translocate matter without telling me?"

Setsuna put on her best look of innocence. "Would I keep a secret like that? Actually, Usagi-chan and the others dropped them off for me yesterday afternoon. Nothing personal, but I wouldn't be caught dead wearing one of these hospital gowns in public."

"I think that was the general idea when they came up with the things," Lucas noted. "The gowns keep any stubborn patients with even a little fashion sense in the building, and they make the ones who decide to leave anyway a lot easier to identify." He shook his head. "So, I understand that you'll be living with the Tsukinos for the foreseeable future."

Setsuna made a face. "You,ve been around Miko-san too long; your sense of humor's starting to warp. And yes, I am staying with Usagi-chan for a while."

"Not quite what I would consider ideal surroundings for recovering from a major case of amnesia," Lucas said clinically. "Not based on what Doc's told me about the place. Unless you,re hoping to aggravate your memory into surrender?"

"The thought had occurred to me." Setsuna flipped one of the suitcases closed, and paused in the middle of shutting the other. "Maybe I'm just being gloomy, but somehow, I get the feeling that my memories aren't going to come back."

"Been looking into your own future?" Lucas asked quietly.

"I tried a few times," Setsuna admitted, "but nothing happened. I seem to recall one of your papers mentioning something about that, how psychics can see other people's futures, but not usually their own."

"I remember the article," Lucas agreed. "But what does that have to do with moving in with Usagi-chan?"

"If it turns out that I do recover, that's all well and good, but if I don,'t, I'll have to start my life over. The Tsukinos may be a little crazy, but they're still a family. Doesn't it make sense for someone trying to start over to _really_ start over? From the beginning, as part of a family?"

"You've got a point there," Lucas said reluctantly, nodding. "There's still a lot we don,'t know about the brain and how it retains information, but it's possible that this sort of situation might trigger something in long-term memory."

"And if it doesn't, I'm no worse off." She snapped the suitcase shut. "At the very least, I'll be getting used to life in the outside world instead of being stuck in here."

Lucas made a tragic sort of face. "And is my company really _that_ detestable?"

Setsuna smiled and put a hand on Lucas' arm. "You've been wonderful, Lucas-san. I might still be seizing up every time I touch someone if it hadn't been for your little hobby, and you've kept my secret for me when you could have alerted the media or written a paper about it."

Lucas grinned. "You're selling yourself short again. I could have written _two_ papers, easily." Setsuna punched his arm. "But seriously, doctor-patient privilege and professional ethics aside... you're an interesting sort of person, Meiou Setsuna. You've been challenging most of the accepted medical facts I know since the night you were admitted, and you may well be the first person my 'hobby,' has actually done any good for. Things just aren't going to be the same around here after you're gone."

Setsuna wasn,'t entirely sure how to respond to that, but the appearance of Usagi and the others at the door saved her from the need to say anything.

"Hey, Setsuna. Hello, Yotogi-san."

"Ladies," Lucas replied. "Here to steal my favorite patient away at last, I see."

Minako grinned. "If you like, we could always arrange to steal you, too. The more, the married, as I always say."

Lucas managed to keep a straight face. "No, that's all right. I'll survive somehow."

"Ready to go?" Usagi asked.

Setsuna nodded. "All set. Are there any release forms I have to sign? Any bills that have to be paid?"

Ami shook her head. "Your medical insurance was all paid up, and Mother and Ikuko-san dealt with the last of the paperwork yesterday."

"Nuts," Lucas said. "And here I was, hoping for some last minute delay."

"Better luck next time," Minako consoled him, taking one of the suitcases. Makoto took the other, and Setsuna had her purse. The girls filed out into the hall with Lucas; Setsuna remained behind a moment longer, taking one last look at the room that had been her home for the past two weeks before joining them.

"Well," Lucas said, "this would appear to be good-bye."

"So it would," Setsuna agreed.

"Given the circumstances leading up to our first meeting, I'd more than understand if you said you hoped to never see me again." Lucas grinned. "But if you need anything—medical advice, a copy of the latest book in extrasensory research, an ear to bend over a cup of coffee—just call." He extended a hand.

"I'll remember that," Setsuna promised, shaking his hand. "Or at least," she added, smiling, "I'll try to." On a whim, she took a small step forward and kissed Lucas on the cheek. That seemed to surprise him a little; it _definitely_ surprised the watching Senshi. "Good-bye, Lucas."

"Uh... good-bye, Setsuna." Lucas was at a bit of a loss for words as his now ex-patient turned and walked down the hall to the elevator, her friends following close behind.

When the elevator doors were sliding shut, Minako turned to Setsuna and asked, "Isn't he a bit young for you?"

***MILLENNIALS***

It wasn't very far from the hospital to the Tsukino household, so the Senshi had elected to walk rather than get a ride—and after being stuck indoors for two weeks straight, Setsuna had no objections to the exercise this plan entailed. She stayed close to the others, though, and shied away noticeably whenever someone else walked by. Despite her rapid recovery and the information supplied by Lucas, Setsuna was still not entirely certain of her ability to control or suppress the appearance of a timeflow should she run into someone, and her hands were not only gloved but held close to her body.

It occurred to each Senshi that this was probably the first time Setsuna had been outside since New Year's Eve. Moreover, she had been alone or in the company of just a few people for all that time. Her room had not been cramped, by any means, but it had still been an enclosed space, and one in which Setsuna could see anyone approach well before they reached her, and thus had the time to prepare herself in case her time-seeing ability was triggered.

Out here, there were no such guarantees. There were more people on this street than Setsuna had met during her entire stay in the hospital, and it was simply impossible for her to keep track of all of them at once. She could prepare for a run-in with someone she saw before her, but what about a person who walked up from behind or suddenly turned a corner? And this was not even a busy street, or a busy time of day; what effect might a rush-hour crowd have on Setsuna, even if no one actually touched her?

Then too, the outdoors itself was something she had to re-acquaint herself with. Setsuna's only memory of being outside was the brief period on New Year's, when she had been half-carried into Ami,s mother,s car, and a little later, going from the car into the hospital. It had been dark, then, making details hard to notice, and she had been hurt and tired and frightened besides. Now she was healed, rested, and alert, and the details were evident even in the dimming afternoon sky.

Setsuna kept a very firm grip on Usagi's hand for the entire trip, and Usagi spent a great deal of time talking, equal parts tour guide and emotional support. Ami and Minako led the way, Minako swinging the suitcase and going on about something that Ami occasionally nodded politely about and otherwise seemed to ignore. Rei and Makoto brought up the rear, Makoto because the others had found it necessary to separate her and Ami for a while to stop the argument about sleeping space, and Rei because, from this vantage point, she could watch Usagi at the same time as everything else.

"Is it much further?" Setsuna asked after a close call with a bunch of kids. Chasing each other down the sidewalk, scooping snow up in loose handfuls to throw, hitting pedestrians with as much frequency and enthusiasm as their intended target, the group of children broke like a wave around Ami and Minako to sweep, laughing, past Usagi and Setsuna. The flash of panic triggered by the sudden appearance and rapid movement of the children outweighed the faint sense of delight Setsuna felt seeing ordinary children play ordinary games, and even though her ability had not kicked in, the close call—the knowledge that, because of a sudden burst of fear, she could not have stopped the surging vision of past, present, and future if it had appeared—left her drained.

"We're almost there," Usagi reassured her, pointing past Ami and Minako with her free hand. "That one there. And Mom's probably already started cooking dinner."

"Actually," Luna announced, appearing atop the wall, "she's been at it for the last half hour. Hello, Setsuna."

"Hello, Luna. Would you mind not sneaking up on me like that?" Setsuna added plaintively.

"I apologize." Feline shoulders shrugged. "It's a cat thing. I'll try to be a little less abrupt in the future."

"Where's Artemis?" Minako asked.

"He's checking the sides of the house." Luna looked at Usagi. "Shingo's hiding somewhere. He went into seclusion in his room as soon as he got home, but he's not there now, and nobody saw him leave. Two of his water guns are missing as well."

"Terrific," Usagi said flatly.

"He wouldn't dare," Rei said.

"And miss the opportunity to blast me _and_ ChibiUsa _and_ a whole bunch of our friends, all at the same time? The little weasel's probably been planning this for a week."

"But it's the middle of winter," Makoto protested.

"And I'll just bet he's been melting snow for the occasion instead of using tap water," Usagi predicted gloomily.

"We could split up and look for him," Minako offered.

"For-GET it," Usagi said witheringly. "Shingo's a weasel, but he's at least half lizard, too—probably a chameleon. If he doesn't want to be found, we won't find him." She shook her head. "Just be ready to dodge at a moment's notice—because that's all the warning we're going to get."

"If your brother gets my hair wet," Makoto warned Usagi as they entered the yard, "he's going to die. I didn't bring a hat, and it's too cold tonight to walk around with damp hair."

"We've got towels," Usagi noted absently, searching the yard for any signs of life. Spotting nothing except Artemis, coming around one corner of the house and shaking his head, Usagi sighed. "All right, let's get this over with."

Usagi opened the door and announced, "We're home," in a quiet voice, half-expecting to be soaked from head to toe before the words got out of her mouth. When nothing happened, she repeated the phrase with a little more volume, and nearly jumped out of her skin when ChibiUsa and Hotaru appeared from the next room.

"You can relax," ChibiUsa told her. "We're not Shingo."

"How long has he been quiet?" Usagi asked, making room for the others to enter.

"At least an hour."

That was bad news. Shingo was a genius when it came to water-based warfare; given fifteen minutes to prepare, he could put together enough aqua artillery to drench a fair-sized fire, to say nothing of the nasty little surprises he rigged for when Usagi recovered and tried to chase him down. Mudholes in the yard, precariously balanced buckets of water above half-closed doors, tripwires in the hall that dumped you face-first into Shingo only knew what sort of goo... Usagi didn,'t want to think about the level of insanity her sibling could cook up after an hour.

"Hi, Setsuna-chan."

"Hello, Hotaru-chan." Setsuna smiled faintly. "Braving the front lines on your own?"

"Michiru-mama and Haruka-papa send their apologies," Hotaru recited, "but there's a lecture at the university tonight that Michiru didn't want to miss. They'll stop by a little later to get me and see how things are going."

"And incidentally miss the waterfight," Usagi added. "Where _is_ that louse hiding?"

"Now, Usagi," Ikuko said, coming into the room. "It's not polite to call your brother names."

"Even if he _is_ a louse," Kenji added. "Hello, girls." The Senshi murmured various greetings as Kenji turned to Setsuna. "And you must be Setsuna; welcome to our home."

"Thank you. I know this must be a lot of trouble for you..."

"It's no trouble at all," Ikuko said. Kenji coughed, politely indicating that he didn't quite share that opinion, but said nothing else. "Come in, girls. Make yourselves comfortable; dinner should be ready in another twenty minutes. Mako-chan, if you don't mind, I could use a hand in the kitchen."

"You've got it," Makoto said, hanging her coat on the closet doorknob and passing the suitcase to Usagi.

"Where do we put all these coats?" Minako asked, juggling her own coat and the other suitcase.

"There're some spare hangers in the closet," Ikuko advised from the kitchen.

"Thanks," Minako called back, sliding open the door. After a moment to study the closet, she added, "I'm not sure there's enough room in here. A lot of the coats are jammed together as it is, and..."

"YAAAAH!" Usagi dropped the suitcase as a roar of ambush and a burst of very, very cold water exploded from the closet, followed closely by Shingo, who had been wedged in amongst the long jackets and thick coats with two fully-loaded water guns in his hands. The weapons were smaller cousins of the Super Soaker, limited in range and ammo, but more than suitable for this particular engagement.

Minako took the first volley head-on, even before she had a chance to fully back up in shock from the yell, and was quite nearly bowled over as Shingo jumped out of hiding. ChibiUsa dove for cover in the next room as the weapons fired again, squarely nailing Hotaru in the back of the head while Minako took a second hit to the face, tripping backwards over the suitcase she had set down and landing on Ami. The cats scrambled out of the way as the two girls hit the floor, but Shingo already had his sights set on his sister—who was half-bent over and holding her foot, which the suitcase had hit when it fell—and Setsuna by that point. He needed only a second to take aim and squeeze the triggers to complete the assault.

Setsuna needed even less than that. Her right hand had vanished into her purse when the ruckus had started, and it emerged now, holding a small, snub-nosed, low-priced version of the water guns Shingo carried, a translucent purple pistol which was suddenly pointed—and firing—straight into his face.

The water wasn't even that cold, but the shock of getting hit in the middle of his own masterfully executed ambush threw Shingo's aim off; one burst hit Rei instead of Usagi, and the other struck the wall. Setsuna zapped Shingo a second time for good measure and then waited, arms crossed, the half-empty squirt pistol dangling almost lazily in her hand. Blinking water out of his eyes, Shingo stared at Setsuna in amazement.

"Surprise," she murmured.

***MILLENNIALS***

The room was still dark. Most of the displays in the desk were shut off, increasing the depth of the shadows. Only one monitor remained on, the fold-out keyboard beneath it clicking softly as the user worked. The soft blue-white glow of the screen illuminated a few papers to either side of the monitor and keyboard, the hands of the woman using the keyboard, and very little else. Those hands paused as the faint sound of a door opening echoed through the room.

"Who's there?" The voice was one of those that had been in attendance at the last meeting in this room, the cool, emotionally detached woman.

"Just me." Again, another voice from the meeting, that of the dreary, dull-voiced man who had been seated across from the icy woman. "Am I disturbing you?"

"No," Cool Voice replied, going back to her typing without offering any clues about what she was doing.

"Good," Dull Voice said. The word sounded anything _but_ good. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Catching up on paperwork, mostly. I find it much easier to work here than in my office. Fewer distractions. Was there something you wanted?"

"Nothing in particular. You come here to work; I come here to think."

"And am _I_ disturbing _you?_" she asked.

"Not particularly."

"Good." Again, the sound of the word didn't match up with its meaning. The typing continued for several moments.

"A report came to my attention this afternoon," Dull Voice said suddenly. "Personnel and Special Resources were both a little put out with your sudden and ongoing hijacking of manpower and equipment this week and last."

"I needed information," Cool Voice stated. "And before you ask, no, it wasn't the kind I could have gotten from your files."

"Something to do with that 'other matter' you mentioned at the last meeting?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"What is it about this Setsuna girl that bothers you so much?" Dull Voice didn't sound quite so dull now. "If you wanted her followed, I could have arranged it."

"She's been in the hospital this entire time; 'following' her was not the problem." Cool Voice stopped typing. "Did you read her file?"

"Of course."

"And how large was it?"

"Not very. Bare bones information, most of it from official sources—census office, university registrars, hall of records, that sort of thing. Not surprising, considering that there was never a need for any detailed observation or study of the girl." Dull Voice paused, then continued with a hint of wry sympathy in his tone. "We probably know more about her than she does about herself, if the amnesia is as extensive as was indicated."

"That was the third thing that I found odd," Cool Voice said. "Her background information, not her amnesia. Her record is so clean that it squeaks—not so much as a parking ticket or a late bank payment—but it's also all but devoid of prominent events—grades that were above average but not outstanding, a modest annual income, no sudden twists of fortune, whether good or bad. It's too bland. And since when does an aspiring fashion designer in her mid-twenties need—let alone obtain—citizenship in a half-dozen different countries around the world?"

"A bit unusual," Dull Voice admitted. "What were the first and second things that led you to the rest of it?"

"The second was a comparison of her file with those of the other people involved in the New Year's attack. The five girls who were present have fairly extensive files; they've all been involved in a number of recorded attacks, while Miss Meiou, from all we know, has had no such experience. Why, then, would she be singled out for such extensive and damaging attention?"

"Variety, perhaps. And the first reason?"

"A report from one of our people in the hospital." There was a slight emphasis on those last two words. "It came in the day after the attack. There was an interesting discussion which would seem to suggest that our ordinary young lady may be hiding some sort of extrasensory ability."

"What sort of ability?"

"Precognition. And perhaps retrocognition as well."

"Well now. Well, well, well." Dull Voice was no longer even remotely dull; he sounded _very_ interested. "I could find any number of uses for a gift like that. I take it _that_ was what sparked your sudden spree of requisitioning?"

"Correct. The report listed several past events that were mentioned and some future ones that she predicted. We were able to confirm the past events—a birthdate and an event connected to a plane crash—but no progress on proving or disproving the predictions has been made yet. I left orders for the agent to keep close to the girl, but she checked out of the hospital today, so observation is going to be a little more difficult."

"Difficult, but not impossible. I have some people who are better suited to field work than your borrowed operatives. And I'll have someone do a more in-depth analysis of her file, to see if we can turn up anything more." Dull Voice got up from his chair and headed for the unseen door he had entered through.

Cool Voice went back to her typing.

***MILLENNIALS***

Archon was meditating when the detection spells were triggered, his eerie eyes closed and his normally harsh, chilling features relaxed and peaceful. A subtle shift in his expression was all the outward sign the master mage gave as he projected his awareness from his body, entering the global energy web and following the almost magnetic pull of his spells along the ley lines, directly to the location of the unknown spellcaster.

There were thousands of miles between the spot where Archon's body rested, in a room in a city on the bottom of the sea, and the room in the city where his mind was headed, but he crossed that distance in seconds. And as he traveled, information about his target was being relayed by his spells.

A girl. Young, to be wielding magic at all. Though Archon's spells detected no latent gift for spellcraft, she had considerable strength of will and a keen intellect—both key assets for any prospective wizard. There was also a black presence in her mind, something with the mass of a mountain and the edge of a razor. This was a kind of hatred Archon had rarely encountered, and it easily explained what was giving someone so young and unskilled the means to access this much magical force.

In that instant, as he considered the girl's state of mind and the level of power she was tapping into, Archon decided that she would be a worthwhile student.

Which was just as well for her, because as the initial gathering of energy passed and the spell began to take shape, Archon recognized it as a summons, an attempt to invoke a supernatural entity from another plane of existence. This particular summons was heading straight for one of the darkest levels of reality; no matter how strong her potential, the girl wasn't ready to deal with the kind of creature her incantation was about to make manifest. And even if she was—hate could be a strong shield as well as a strong motivater—her spell was only half-complete, and in no way strong enough to hold the thing coming through.

Of course, that also meant that it couldn't keep Archon out. His awareness slipped past the frayed edges of the invocation and settled itself in the otherworldly place where such disembodied intellects waited before passing fully from one realm to the next, filling the extraplanar space that had been intended for another.

Just in time. The formless will of something hideous and dark and terrible appeared in the otherworld, swirling up around Archon like a cloud of utter darkness, eager to enter the physical plane, and not at all happy to find something else in its way. But as it raised an immaterial fist of willpower to smash at the obstacle in its way, Archon raised his defenses. The attack, which would have crushed a normal mind in much the same way that a meteor shatters anything it falls on, was itself shattered upon a wall of pure will.

The creature hesitated. A looming weapon born of terror and malice melted away into a cautious, questing probe as the nightmarish entity tested and learned the nature of what lay before it. The mind-probe withdrew, and the creature's black essence gathered back into itself as the thing bowed solemnly.

*Begone,* Archon commanded silently, and the creature vanished back to its own plane.

That task done, Archon turned his attention to the girl. His awareness flooded back into reality, taking on a wispy form that mirrored his dormant body. When all was in readiness, he opened his eyes. The girl was reading the words of the rite from a sheet of paper, and Archon listened carefully, noting how she pronounced each word. There were some mistakes, but considering that she was using a language that had been dead for over two thousand years, he was impressed.

"That should be 'kaagrokieezasz,'" he corrected her, "not 'kaajroquieksasz.'" Archon knew she understood him, just as he would understand her when she spoke. Part of the makeup of these spells was to facilitate communication between a human summoner and creatures whose native languages were nothing like any human speech. Translating Atlantean into whatever modern tongue the girl spoke should be no problem at all.

"Be quiet," she commanded—and as a compulsion of silence fell on him, Archon was again impressed. The spells of command had evidently been pronounced _much_ better than the spells of containment. Not that this was a problem; he located the weave of the command and bent down on it with his mind, severing the flow of energy while holding the essence of the spell in his memory.

"Now then," the girl said, setting the paper down in a pile of other such sheets. "Let's have a look at you." While she studied his image, Archon noted several books nearby, some closed, others open to various pages. None of what he could see appeared Atlantean in origin, so where had the girl found that spell? "This isn't right," she said, obviously disappointed. "You're human!"

"Appearances can be deceiving," Archon said mildly. "I could very easily be something wearing the shape of a human."

"But you're not, are you?" It wasn't a question.

"No."

"Terrific. Just perfect." The girl sat down on a padded stool. After a moment, she cursed and swung her arm, knocking papers, books, and small odds and ends off the table in front of her. "Useless junk! What good is a dead human spirit?"

"I'm not dead."

She looked up. "What?"

"The image before you is a projection created by my mind. My real body is elsewhere, and quite alive."

The girl blinked, taking in the black eyes, the strange robes, and the archaic symbols on those robes. Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"A master of magic. My name is Archon." As he spoke, Archon twisted the energies of the compulsion of silence into a compulsion of speech, holding it ready in his mind. "Now, what is _your_ name?"

"I don't have to t..." The girl froze in mid-word as Archon sent the reshaped spell back at her. She struggled for a moment, then blurted out two words. Its energy spent, Archon let the compulsion go, and the girl glared at him in fury. "How did you do that?"

"Quite easily. And if you don't know how, you're obviously not ready to try your hand at _this_ level of magic." The sweep of his hands indicated his own image.

The girl stood suddenly, holding something in one hand, pointing at Archon with the other, and hissed a word. Something invisible and very hard shot through the space occupied by Archon,'s head—but since he was just a projection, the invisible thing passed through and hit the wall behind him.

"Not bad," Archon said, his face reconstructing itself around the hole the passage of the spell had caused. He turned his head about to inspect the cracks in the wall. "Not the best choice for a noncorporeal target, but excellent technique. Care to try again?"

She did. This time, it was a clutching, clawing sort of motion with both hands, and two short, sharp syllables. Thin lengths of green lightning sprang into being all around Archon's image and shot energy across the space between them, rather like a bunch of Jacob's Ladders.

"Much better," Archon said approvingly, as his image was sliced into hundreds of thin strips by the arcing energy. "And now it's my turn." He raised one hand, and the lines of energy suddenly swirled into his fist and were extinguished. Then he motioned with his other hand, and the girl's entire body went rigid, as if huge, unseen fingers had closed around her. Archon waited. "Anything else? No? Very well." He released the spell, and the girl fell to the ground.

"What... do you... want?"

"A great many things, none of which have to do with you. No, the question now is not 'what do _I_ want?' Rather, it is, 'what do _you_ want?'"

"None of your damn business."

"Very true. But you are using magic to get what you want, and magic is very much my business." Archon considered her, and what his spells had shown him. "There is someone you hate very much, enough to risk casting a spell you were quite unprepared for, enough to turn loose a creature of tremendous evil power on a person who would have even less defense against it than you yourself."

"So what?" The girl made no attempt to deny anything. "What are you, some benevolent spirit come to tell me to be a good little girl? To stop trying to use magic to get what I want?"

"'Trying' would be the operative word, there," Archon pointed out dryly. "And no, I am not trying to stop you from using magic to get what you want. Quite the opposite; I am in a position to help."

"Help?" The girl laughed. "How?"

Archon glanced at the scattered papers. Several pulled loose from the others and floated across the room to hang in the air before him. After examining the words written on them, he sent one page floating over to the girl.

"Let's start with this."

***MILLENNIALS***

*Archon,* Proteus thought. *Yes, I remember you. The master-maker, the creator-father.*

Proteus shut off most of the functions in that particular part of itself that was observing the wizard and his new student, until only the most basic abilities of observation were left. It had originally extended to that location when it had detected a sudden buildup of energy, thinking perhaps to secure a useful power source. Now, by pure chance, it had found something even better: a source of information.

As long as Archon did not notice its presence, his second, unseen student would continue to observe this lesson.

And perhaps many more.

***SAILOR SAYS***

**Makoto** _(looking a bit disappointed)_: That's IT? No fight?

**Ami**: There's nothing wrong with a little change of pace every now and then. Besides, you're too hung up on fighting anyway.

_(They look at each other in an unfriendly way, then look off in different directions. Minako, who is standing on her head for some reason, sighs.) _

**Minako**: Come on, you two. Not only did I not get a chance to show off my new uniform, but I got blasted with a watergun—twice. And you don't hear me complaining, do you?

**Rei** _(looking in from the right side of the screen)_: Mina-chan... why are you doing that?

**Minako** _(grinning)_: I'm practicing a new routine for the next gymnastics meet. _(rolls out of the headstand)_ After this, I'm going to run a few laps. Gotta make sure I'm ready for that track competition against Hime-chan.

**Rei**: Oh. _(looks around, then sighs)_ Well, I guess it's my turn. Today we learned some of the geography and history of the western world. _(smiles)_ Mina-chan may not understand it, or even pronounce it right, but I've always found ancient history to be interesting. Maybe it's because so much of the modern world is shaped by events over a thousand years old, or because all the great stories have their roots in ancient times. It might even have something to do with the fact that I happen to have an old soul.

**Ami**: That probably isn't the reason. Mina-chan's soul is as old as yours, and just look at the trouble she has in history.

**Rei** _(frowns)_: You've got a point there.

_(There is a splintering sound from off-screen, and Usagi walks in from the left, picking bits of wood out of her clothes and hair.)_

**Usagi**: Finally got out of that stupid box... Hey! What are you doing?

**Rei**: Just finishing up. As I was about to say, since we're going up against Atlantis, I think it's safe to assume that ancient history is going to play a fairly important role in our adventure before all is said and done.

**Usagi**: Forget ancient history; what's going on in the modern world? Who are these 'Voices' we keep hearing, and who is that creepy black-eyed wizard teaching?

**Rei**: Have you ever heard of 'mystery' odango-atama? Where's the fun if we find out everything before it happens? _(pauses)_ Although I have to admit, I would have appreciated a warning about Shingo.

**Shingo** _(sticking his head up in front of the camera)_: And _I_ would have appreciated a warning about Setsuna.

**Usagi**: Hey! You,'re not supposed to be in here, Shingo! Get out!

**Shingo**: Make me! _(pulls his eyelid and sticks out his tongue)_ Nyah!

**Usagi**: Oh, that's it. You,'re dead, buster!

_(She chases him off-screen. The girls sigh.) _

18/04/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Due to a week-long bout of the blahs, this one was out later and actually a little shorter than expected, but the important thing is that it's done. And I finally managed to move ahead a bit. At this rate, I might actually hit February before summer...

In the near—or not so near—future, expect to see :  
-Hijinx of the expanded Tsukino household;  
-Mystical mysteries;  
-Some of that ancient history Rei was talking about.

And now, I think I'm going to go to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Monday morning, 6:58 am. The sun was just peeking above the horizon, rising up from the sea in a blaze of glory that was completely obscured by the smoky grey clouds in the air. A blizzard had swept in from the ocean the night before and dumped another layer of snow on Tokyo while it slept, before returning to the sea. Now it was back, and gearing up for round two.

On the second floor of the Tsukino household, in a room where snores filled the air, Setsuna's eyes opened. Anyone watching would likely have jumped at the sheer suddenness with which this happened. Unlike most people, Setsuna did not progress through a period of drowsy half-wakened unconsciousness on her way from being fully asleep to fully awake. One second, she was asleep; the next, she was awake.

The level of snoring indicated that she was alone in that regard. Sitting up and looking at the other two beds in the room, Setsuna had to smile; not-quite-yet mother and not-for-a-while daughter were both sprawled on their backs, one arm up on the pillow, the sheets tangled, mouths wide. Usagi wore a long white nightgown, ChibiUsa blue flannel pajamas—but in either case, the little pink bunny rabbits were out in force.

To judge by the intensity of the synchronized snoring, both of them would be out for another half an hour or so, so Setsuna pushed back the covers and got to her feet as quietly as she could. Near the end of Usagi's mattress, Luna's ears twitched just before one of her eyes opened; in the manner of cats, she stood, stretched, and hopped down to the floor just as noiselessly as Setsuna. Pausing to stick her feet into a pair of slippers—ordinary slippers in dark violet, from her own things, fortunately; the idea of walking around with bunny slippers was just TOO ridiculous—and retrieve the matching housecoat from the hook on the door, Setsuna slipped out of the room, holding the door open to let Luna out with her.

It was quiet in the hall. Someone—Ikuko, probably—was in the shower, but the other rooms remained silent, so Setsuna stepped lightly to avoid waking anyone. Luna, of course, made no noise at all.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," they both said at once.

"You first," Setsuna said.

"How do you do that? Get up at precisely the same time that the sun rises every morning, I mean. People do tend to wake up at the same general time, but this is the tenth day in a row you've been up with the sun."

"Twenty-third, actually," Setsuna corrected her. "Aside from New Year's Day, I've been waking up at dawn since I got here. Is that unusual?"

"If it were anyone else, I'd say yes. But you have a different relationship with time than most other people." Luna thought about it, then shook her head. "And what were you going to ask me?"

"How do you ever get any rest with all that racket? I thought cats were light sleepers."

"We are," Luna admitted. "Except for Artemis, anyway; he could sleep through an earthquake without batting a whisker. But what they say is true; with a little time, you can get used to almost anything. And besides," she added as they entered the kitchen, "I make up the difference with catnaps during the day."

"I knew there had to be a reason for it. You don't strike me as the lazy type." Setsuna took a couple of cartons out of the fridge, pouring a glass of orange juice for herself and filling Luna's bowl with milk. That done, she put the cartons away, loaded the toaster, and headed for the front door to retrieve the newspaper. The front page article was covering some sort of political scandal—"ELECTORAL FRAUD! DIET OVERDUE FOR A HOUSE-CLEANING!" the headline shouted—but Setsuna didn't read it. Instead, she set the paper down on the table, took a seat, drank a bit of juice, and waited for the toast.

There were, she had learned, certain rules of survival in this house. One was that any cooking more complicated than making toast or getting yourself a bowl of cereal was handled by Ikuko—end of story. Another was that Kenji always read the paper first—except for the comics, which were Shingo's domain. Unless ChibiUsa got to them first.

The toast popped. In the midst of putting the bread onto a plate, Setsuna had to stop and smile.

"Something funny?" Luna asked.

"One of my doctors would say that I must be making good progress, if I can look at a toaster without flinching after the last one I was near tried to vaporize me." Setsuna thought for a moment. "Then again, he might add that talking to cats is a sign that I've still got a long way to go."

"That is the sort of thing Doc would say," Ikuko agreed, entering the kitchen in her usual attire, minus the apron, looking ready to face the day and showing no signs of just having stepped out of the shower a few minutes before. "Good morning, Setsuna. How long have you been up?"

"Only a few minutes," Setsuna reassured her. "So you call him 'Doc' too? I thought Usagi-chan said he was related to you."

"He is," Ikuko confirmed, "but only in the same way that half the people in the city are related to the other half. One of my mother's older cousins was Doc's aunt by marriage; the relationship is through _her_ daughter, who is Doc's cousin by birth and..." Ikuko frowned. "I forget whether she's my third cousin or if I'm her fourth cousin, but you get the idea."

"I do. I think."

Ikuko chuckled. "I'd never met Doc in my life until I went in for a checkup when I was carrying Usagi, but we got along well. After a few appointments, he told me he'd gone through our family trees and found the connection. He never did tell me what his given name is, though." She glanced at Luna. "I wouldn't worry too much about talking to cats, though."

"Oh?"

"Everybody in this house except Kenji talks to Luna—don't we, Luna?" Ikuko bent down to scratch behind Luna's ears. "Just because she can't talk doesn't mean she isn't a person, too—after a fashion. She's easily the smartest cat I've ever met; sometimes it's like she actually understands what we're saying."

Luna purred outrageously.

"You see what I mean?" Ikuko laughed, scratching under Luna's furry chin. "I admit I had some doubts when Usagi asked if she could keep Luna. My first thought was that she was going to be a problem; she _was_ a stray, after all. But she never once set a claw to any of the furniture, she's very quiet when Usagi isn't falling on top of her, and she's never once bitten or scratched anybody who didn't deserve it. After a while, when I saw how attached to her Usagi was getting, I started to worry that someone might have lost Luna and would want her back when they found her—who _wouldn't_ want a cat this intelligent and well-behaved?—or that Luna might run away." Ikuko rolled her eyes. "Considering all the abuse she takes from Usagi on a regular basis, I'm surprised she _hasn't_ left us."

*Don't think the thought hasn't crossed my mind a few times,* Luna grumbled silently.

"Looks like there won't be any school today," Ikuko sighed, glancing out the window at the high-piled and still-falling snow.

"The paper got here," Setsuna argued.

"Our paperboy is as much a force of nature as any storm," Ikuko countered, shaking her head. "In three years, he's always delivered on time. Oh well." Ikuko reached for the coffee pot. "Did you want any of this, Setsuna?"

"No, thank you." Setsuna made a face. "I don't remember whether or not I liked it before, but I tried some at the hospital, and it was pretty awful stuff. Is there any of that lemon tea left?"

"A little." Ikuko took out the teapot and a packet of tea. "Just about the last of it. Remind me to pick some up when we go shopping tomorrow, will you?"

Setsuna blinked. "'We?'"

"You've left the house maybe five times in the last week," Ikuko pointed out. "Usagi told me that you have a problem with crowds, and I understand—I don't do well with heights, myself—but as my grandmother used to say, 'the best way to deal with what scares you is to go up to it and laugh in its face.' Of course," she added, "Granny also used to say, 'don't jump off the deep end until you know how to swim.' I do most of my shopping at the mall, on weekends, but there's a corner store a little ways down the street that has most of what we need. It's not far, and it's never very busy. Does that sound okay to you?"

That took some consideration. Finally, Setsuna nodded, albeit a little uncertainly.

"Good. That's settled." Ikuko reached for her apron. "Now, what would you like for breakfast?" She glanced meaningfully at the window. "I've got plenty of time to be creative this morning."

***MILLENNIALS***

Rei woke up with a headache that morning.

Grandpa and Yuuichirou recognized the danger signs and took pains to make themselves as scarce as possible. Even her two loyal crows, huddled together near the largest of the shrine's various chimneys to keep warm, seemed to be trying to avoid looking at her directly as they stood watch over the snowbound courtyard.

"Traitors," Rei grumbled, heading for the bathhouse.

She'd had a dream last night. It had started out as a fairly ordinary, even pleasant sort of dream, then taken a disturbing turn for the prophetic.

Wearing what looked like a cross between her Senshi fuku and the armor of a medieval samurai, Rei had been traveling across a foggy dream world, following the wise advice of a river spirit with Ami's face and the idiotic riddles of a masked court fool with Minako's vocabulary, on a quest to save a lost prince from a wicked faerie queen and her dragon ally. The queen had looked like Usagi, and the dragon, somehow, had Makoto's features impressed onto its scaled snout, while the face of the prince was equal parts Mamoru and Yuuichirou. The mission seemed straightforward enough, but the catch was that the queen's castle magically changed its location at moonrise each night, and the only clue on how to reach the thing before it disappeared again was mixed up in one—or two or three or ten—of the jester's mind-boggling riddles.

*It was something about the new moon, wasn't it?* The riddles had been hard enough to understand in the first place, and the haze of having just woken up wasn't helping her to remember, but Rei was pretty sure that she had the details right. *Three nights each month, when the moon is dark and can't be seen, the castle can't move. I think that was it.*

Her dream-self had found the castle, tricked the watchful dragon into a riddle contest with the jester so she could slip by, then had the water spirit spread ice on all the floors in the castle—the queen, it turned out, had a nearly terminal case of imbalance because her wings were too small to allow her to fly, but too big for her to stay on her feet when she tried to walk. With everyone occupied in trying to help the queen, Rei had easily found the prince, asleep in a huge crystal. Getting him out of the crystal involved exposing the thing to the most piercing noise in the world, but with the queen shrieking just down the hall, that part was easy. Waking the prince up, of course, required a kiss...

And right there, the dream had gone all twisted on her. The world swirled away into infinity, leaving her in an empty void, alone except for two burning flames before her. They seemed identical, but she had been certain that one was the Fire of Mars, the source of her power as a Senshi, while the other was the sacred flame that burned only a short distance from where her body slept. The fires had expanded suddenly to fill the entire void, but she never even thought to be afraid; neither fire would ever harm her.

A shadow appeared against the burning infinity, or perhaps it had been there all along, unseen against the blackness. The shadow looked human, and eyelike holes floated above and behind it, pits as dark as the void had been a moment ago. The shadow threw dark, violet flames and blood-red lightning at her, black beams lanced out from the eyes, and coils of the fire all around her swirled in to intercept the attacks, consuming them and burning up their length to the sources. The eyes winked out before the fire could reach them, but the shadow was consumed utterly—only to have something just as dark rise from its ashes.

The fire looped in on itself, then, coalescing from all about into a solid form that hovered before her. A book? She opened the book, turned pages of fire, saw indecipherable characters of pure energy. Part of her mind seemed to be screaming at her that her hands were being burned to nothing, that the light from the pages would destroy her eyes and sear insanity into her brain; she hesitated, and the book vanished.

Unreality reappeared beneath her. Looking down, Rei saw sand—red sand—gathered about her feet, and looking up, she saw a hazy orange sky. Of course. This was the planet Mars. Her planet. She'd seen pictures of it in books at school, in one or two science fiction movies. Strange, though, how familiar it felt to be standing on the dusty soil, looking up at the dull sky. Almost like she'd been there before.

Something seemed to ripple in the sand to her left, but a dust storm swept in and hid the movement from her eyes. She looked into the sky again, and found that the storm had blown away the orange sky; now, she could see the entire solar system. All nine planets, all the scattered moons, even the millions of tiny stones drifting between them.

Seven points of light appeared in space, seven lights which spiraled downwards, like comets, towards the Earth. The first was brilliant white, the second a black so intense that the darkness of empty space seemed feeble by comparison. Next came a brilliant green, which was followed by what appeared to be an absence of color. The fifth falling light was a steely grey, and the sixth was—pastel pink? No, it was mustard yellow. No, wait, now it was royal blue. With orange spots. And _now_ it was spiraling loop-de-loops.

From everywhere and nowhere, Rei could have sworn she heard a profoundly long-suffering sigh—sort of like the sound Luna made when Usagi did something stupid, only on a larger scale. The acrobatic incandescence appeared to flicker, then proceeded on its way in a more sedate fashion, glittering like a mirrorball. She pulled her eyes from the bizarre light just in time to see the seventh and last streak by, to see that it was actually three smaller lights traveling together, each a slightly different shade of violet. All seven—or was it nine?—objects vanished into the atmosphere.

Then darkness was falling on Earth. Not the natural darkness of day turning into night turning into another day, but a sick, creeping blackness, like oil spilling from a wrecked tanker to ooze over the water. First it appeared in a hundred or more tiny spots, all over the globe; then a smaller number of spots appeared—more than four, she thought, but less than ten—spots much larger and somehow darker than the others, spots from which the darkness spread until it was covering most of the planet.

A rainbow of lights burst from the last part of Earth to be swallowed by the black tide, lights which crossed the void to strike the other planets and the Moon, which in turn began to glow the hue of whichever light had hit them. Rei looked around, saw that the sands and stones were glowing with the dull red of heated iron. Then light shot back towards the Earth, the nine beams brighter than they had been before. At the point where they touched, a shockwave raced out across the darkened Earth, but for a moment after it had passed, nothing appeared to happen. Then light began to appear in the darkness and streak towards the point of impact, cutting countless lines through the black shroud and gathering into a point too bright to look at. Rei thought she saw the beginnings of a shape, but the light flared up so brightly that she had to shut her eyes and turn away.

And in the same instant that she turned around, Mars and the rest of the solar system vanished, leaving her in the darkness again, alone except for a huge collection of boxes. Some were tiny, ornate coffers for holding jewelry; others were carefully worked wooden chests; still others were shipping crates. Rei saw her dream-self begin to open the boxes in great haste, obviously looking for something and just as obviously not finding it in any of the containers. The growing panic of her image began to affect Rei herself, and with each box that failed to yield the desired item—whatever it might be—she grew more frantic, certain that she was running out of time.

Finally, there were only four boxes left: a steel chest, a box which looked like a Rubix cube, another which was made out of some sort of smoked glass, and a looming, dirt-caked coffin. And though the need to find the object of her search was almost overwhelming, Rei hesitated.

Fire appeared above her, a flame which danced and crackled and gave strength and peace of mind. She couldn't tell if this was the sacred flame or the Fire of Mars, but its presence was welcome, burning away the panic in her mind and leaving cool resolve behind. In a moment, she could...

The flame flickered. Rei stared at it in astonishment, and it flickered again. It flared up, then grew small. It was strange, it was almost like...

Rei froze. Like the fire was going OUT. Panic returned. Now she understood; the fire, whatever it was, was going out, and it needed more fuel to keep it burning. That was what she had been looking for.

Rei considered her choices. The glass box was far too small to hold anything that could be used to keep a fire going, and she shied away from the coffin's rank air of decay. The patterned box, she saw after a moment's inspection, really _was_ a Rubix cube, the only way to get the lid open being to solve the puzzle. And she didn't have time for games.

That left the steel chest. The lid was rusted shut and took several moments to open, but once it was, carefully cut and stacked firewood was visible within. The dream-Rei lifted out a stick and thrust it into the fire, but the wood burned to ash instantly, hardly feeding the flame at all. She tried another stick, and again, it was consumed. This wasn't working.

She looked at the remaining boxes. After a moment, she lifted the small glass case, thinking that if wood couldn't keep the fire burning, maybe what she needed might fit in this small a container after all. The glass case opened easily, and tiny, sparkling gems poured out, falling up towards the guttering fire. The gems passed through the fire, and for a moment, it burned more steadily. But then it continued to shrink.

Rei looked at her last two choices. The puzzle box, then. Maybe she could figure it out in time.

But after several minutes, the box hadn't opened, and the fire was almost gone. It seemed that the harder she tried to solve the puzzle, the more complicated it became. Weeping in frustration, the dream-Rei threw the puzzle box away into the darkness, and turned to the ominous bulk of the coffin. Its lid opened smoothly, silently—and Rei recoiled in horror as a bony, half-rotted hand emerged. She almost turned away completely, but the fire wavered again, barely any larger than a candle flame. Gathering her courage, she reached out for the withered, decaying hand, felt her flesh crawl in anticipation of cold sliminess. The rotted thing in the casket moved with surprising speed, holding a three-and-a-half fingered hand up in a gesture of denial, pointing at her with the handless stump of its other arm.

Just then, the fire went out. Terrified, the dream-Rei turned and ran for where she'd thrown the puzzle box. If she solved it in time, there just might be something inside to restart the fire.

She found the box, but realized that she was very cold all of a sudden. Hard to move, hard to think. The fire that had gone out had been part of her, inside her, and now there was nothing in its place except a sick emptiness. And the cold, spreading. She almost had the puzzle, she was certain, but her hands were numb with the cold, she couldn't keep her head up or her eyes open, and what was the point anyway the fire was out and the box was so heavy just set it down for a minute so tired have to rest for a little while have to sleep...

When Rei fell asleep in the dream, she woke up in reality, drenched with sweat, short of breath, her heart pounding and her entire body shivering with the remembered chill of the dream. She had wanted very much to cry or scream or be sick, but managed to fight off all three urges. A quick glance at the clock had shown it to be only 1:49, far too early to get up, but after that awful dream, she knew sleep would not come easily.

So she sat there, in the darkness, listening to the whistle of the blizzard winds, the sheets pulled up around her as she tried every trick of meditation and relaxation at her disposal to dispel the fear. It was not easy; the old tale that, if you died in your dream, you died for real, kept creeping into her thoughts. Eventually, though, she fell asleep again, and did not dream.

Now that she was awake again, Rei thought that maybe dying might have been preferable. She usually slept soundly and woke only moderately grungy, but on the infrequent occasions when her sleep was interrupted for any extended period of time, she always felt awful the next day. It had been more than half a year since the last time, so Rei had forgotten what the experience was really like.

Her body, apparently, took that as a sign to re-educate her, and the headache—the equivalent of a roadcrew at work with jackhammers, just behind the bridge of your nose—was just part of the lesson. Every muscle in her body was stiff. Bones ached, joints creaked, and her mouth tasted as if something had crawled in and died. The fact that her eyes were gummed up to the point where she could barely see was actually a blessing, because it prevented her from seeing the wreck that had been her hair.

She felt much better after soaking in the tub. Not for the first time, Rei was glad that her tradition-obsessed grandfather had had the good sense to let modern convenience win out over 'the way things used to be.' No doubt heating up the water before a bath was an excellent means of building discipline, but there were other, often equally smelly ways of doing that—and beloved grandfather or not, Rei probably would have strangled the old man if he'd insisted she haul buckets of water around every time she wanted to clean herself up. Especially in this kind of weather. Or in this kind of grand mal funk.

There was a noise at the door. "Rei-chan?"

"What is it, Yuuichirou?"

"The morning report on the radio says the roads are closed, so classes are canceled. I thought you'd want to know."

She could almost have kissed him for that. "Thank you." The faint shadow of Yuuichirou's presence seemed to nod before turning and walking away. Rei leaned back in the tub with a contented sigh, profoundly relieved that she wouldn't have to face a day at school after a night like that—and profoundly grateful that she now had the time to clean up properly.

Rei knew that she'd have to call the others—dismissing dreams of this sort wasn't just dangerous, it was stupid—and she knew that they'd probably end up having a meeting before the day was out. That meant she was going to have to get out there and face the snow, the wind, and most likely Usagi's whining as well.

*But not right now,* she thought. Right now, she was just going to sit here, close her eyes, soak up the heat and the water in equal measures, and relax.

There are worse ways to spend a morning.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ami woke up to the droning buzz of an unidentifiable electric device. Glancing at the clock and adding the subject 'Use of Kitchen Appliances Before 7:30' to her growing list of Things To Have A Talk About With Makoto, she got up and headed for the door.

The only kitchen appliance currently in use turned out to be the teapot; the buzz was actually coming from the radio. Makoto was leaning over the counter in the kitchen, reaching for a cup from a higher shelf and coming dangerously close to falling out of her loosely-gathered emerald green housecoat.

That was another little item on Ami's list. Not the housecoat itself, by any means—green was a very good color on Makoto—but the fact that Makoto wasn't wearing very much else underneath it.

Ami had no real personal objections to her friend's habit of sleeping in the almost—or entirely—nude; she had pajamas that she wore at sleepovers, but if it suited Makoto not to wear them at home, that was her business. Considering that the temperature in her apartment was kept fairly high to protect the plants, her choice of sleepware—or the lack thereof—made a certain kind of sense. It was warm enough in here at night that Ami'd had to switch to the lighter blue pajamas she had on now, instead of the heavier flannels she usually favored during the winter months.

The problem was that Makoto was one of those people who was a little foggy in the mornings, and until she finished waking up, she tended to be a bit... well, careless. With a shudder, Ami remembered last Saturday, when the paperboy came by to collect the monthly delivery charge. Oh, Makoto _might_ have remembered to close her housecoat in time on her own, but she'd been about four steps away from the door when Ami intercepted her.

Greeting the world in your birthday suit was probably a good way to make friends, but there was a time and a place for everything, and the front door at eight in the morning was NOT one of them!

*Stop it,* she told herself. *So Mako-chan has a different... fashion sense than you do; so what? It doesn't concern you.*

*It does if Ryo-kun happens to be the one at the door,* she shot back. *He'll be back in town before long, and he likes to surprise me by stopping by unannounced; do I really want to run the risk of him getting _that_ kind of surprise in return?*

Her other side thought about that, about Makoto, her friend—with a body that no typical teenaged human male could fail to notice unless he was blind and three days dead—and conceded the point.

"Good morning, Ami-chan," Makoto greeted her, not turning around. "I'm making some hot chocolate; did you want any?"

"That sounds good," Ami agreed, trying to think of a polite way to tell Makoto to go put some actual clothes on, "but shouldn't we be getting ready for school about now?"

"Not today," Makoto replied, shaking her head and setting two cups on the counter. "I haven't heard anything on the radio yet, but I took a look outside, and the snow's piled up about two feet deep in most places; then there's the drifts. And it's _still_ coming down." She chuckled, adding, "You can brave that if you want, but I plan on kicking back and watching some TV."

Ami looked at her like she was crazy, then looked into the living room, and beyond that to the sliding glass doors, and the snowbound balcony beyond them. "That's impossible!"

"What? Watching TV on a snow day? Fairly common, I'd think."

"No, no, no. Not that—that!" Ami pointed towards the swirling winter wasteland.

Makoto looked. "I see snow, ice, and more snow. What's impossible about that?" She turned back to Ami, frowning. "You're not coming down with the flu or something, are you? I could make some chicken soup if..."

"Makoto, will you be quiet for a second and listen?" Ami took a deep breath. "You told me once that you can tell when there's a thunderstorm coming, right?"

"Sure. There's a feeling in the air, sort of like..."

Ami interrupted her again. "Would it surprise you to learn that _I_ can tell when there's going to be rain, snow, or hail?"

"Not really. Michiru and I talked about something like this while we were sneaking around the airport."

"Good. Then you'd accept that I have a sixth sense for weather, and that any sort of precipitation always sets it off?"

"Sure."

"Then why isn't it working now?" Ami nodded towards the balcony. "Why does this weather sense tell me that _that_ isn't happening?"

"You forgot to pay the bill?" Makoto joked feebly, waving away the resulting glare. "I know, I know, it's not funny. I'm _tired,_ Ami-chan; mornings just aren't my thing."

"Then I suggest you go have a shower and finish waking up," Ami told her curtly. "This weather isn't natural, which means that someone or something created it—and _that_ could mean serious trouble for us."

"All right," Makoto sighed. "Are you going to call the others?"

"No. I want to get some readings on this blizzard first and see if I can pin down the source, or at least get an idea of what it might be. And besides," Ami added, "Usagi-chan's probably not even out of bed yet. Depending on what I find or don't find, we may have to meet, and it's going to take some pretty solid evidence to get anybody to go out in this." Ami looked at the raging, impossible storm and shook her head. "Only a maniac would go outside on a day like this without a really good reason."

"You can say that again," Makoto said, on her way to the washroom. She stopped short as something occurred to her. "What do you suppose Mina-chan's up to right now?"

***MILLENNIALS***

"I LOVE winter!" Minako squealed, face pressed to the breath-frosted pane of her bedroom window. "Just look at all the snow! Isn't it beautiful, Artemis?"

"I suppose," the cat said groggily, curled up in the warmth of the bed. Artemis wasn't much better in the mornings than Makoto. "If you're into Ice Ages," he added, yawning.

"Yeah!" Minako agreed enthusiastically, completely missing her feline companion's sleepy sarcasm. "I can hardly wait to get out there!"

Artemis' ears stood up straight, and his eyes went wide, all trace of the morning blahs gone.

*Oh no.*

***MILLENNIALS***

The master bedroom was quiet. Haruka had gotten up briefly perhaps two hours before and returned shortly thereafter, saying something about acts of God, being buried alive, and complaining sourly about having various portions of her anatomy frozen. Something about that particular complaint had nagged at Michiru but, since she was only half-awake, it failed to get any response. The bit about being snowed under had been clearly received, though, and she decided it gave her plenty of time to do something to put a stop to Haruka's grumblings.

Haruka had been right about her hands being frozen—and they were _still_ cold. Michiru couldn't figure out how that was possible, seeing as how the rest of the body they were attached to was so much warmer now. And quieter.

The tranquillity was not to last.

"YEEEE-HAAAH!"

A black-haired cannonball exploded into the middle of the bed. Since it was a waterbed, the whole thing shifted away from the point of impact in rippling waves that would have woken Haruka up even if the pre-impact howl and the sensation of having about fifty or so kilos of childish enthusiasm dropped on her hadn't.

Not for the first time, Michiru wondered how Hotaru managed to cover the distance from the door to the bed without either of them ever seeing or hearing her until after the fact.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

"We're up," Haruka grumbled, trying to dredge up enough blankets for the sake of modesty—and warmth. *This big house doesn't hold heat very well,* she thought absently, looking around for her housecoat, which hung within plain sight on the nearest bedpost.

"We've talked about this," Michiru said, as sternly as she could manage— which wasn't very, since the blankets were the only thing she could even loosely be considered to be wearing. "You're supposed to knock first."

"Oh, come off it, Michiru-mama." Hotaru's voice was suddenly a lot older than she seemed, her smile far too knowing for the almost-child she appeared to be. "Do you _still_ think I don't know what goes on in here? You need thicker walls."

In the middle of reaching for her housecoat, Haruka fell out of the bed with a startled exclamation. Her head popped back up over the side a moment later, red-faced, with eyes nearly as wild as her hair.

"Another parental illusion shattered," Hotaru observed in a mockingly regretful tone.

"Stop that," Michiru admonished the younger girl, trying not to smile. "Now, what was so important that you had to run in here shouting about it at the top of your lungs?" *Come to think of it,* she added mentally, glancing at the bedside clock and seeing that it was closer to ten than it was to nine, *shouldn't she be in school right now?*

"Have you taken a look out the window at all today?" Hotaru looked consideringly at the two of them. "On second thought, forget I asked that." While her foster-family were still trying to decide whether to be embarrassed or irritated, Hotaru sprang off the bed, raced over to the bedroom's huge window, and hauled back the drapes. "Take a look!"

Michiru looked. She stared, actually.

"Something wrong?" Hotaru asked.

"HOW DID _THAT_ GET THERE?" Michiru shouted, pointing at the snow. Haruka and Hotaru blinked, looked out the window, traded glances, and then looked back at Michiru.

"Um... it fell?" Hotaru supplied helpfully.

"I told you earlier it'd snowed," Haruka added, pulling her housecoat shut and getting to her feet. "Weren't you listening?"

A faintly growling sort of response issued from the bundle of blankets that was making its way to the bathroom. Haruka and Hotaru looked at each other again before Haruka followed after the bundle.

"Is there a prob..." Haruka was cut off by the larger part of the blankets coming back at her in a projectile mass, right before the door closed in her face, knocking her to the floor as, behind her, Hotaru hooted with laughter. After pulling free of the tangled mess of fabric, Haruka knocked hesitantly on the door. "Michiru? Is everything all right?"

"No, everything is NOT all right!" Michiru's voice was hardly muffled by the door. And it was a pretty substantial door. "Call the others and ask them if they've noticed this isn't a natural storm, tell them to get their collective act together, and then get dressed!"

"The driveway's snowed in," Haruka said. "And I don't think the streets can be much better."

"Then we'll walk!" The blast of the shower obliterated anything else that might have been said.

Hotaru came up next to Haruka. "Did I hear that right?"

"I think they heard it on Kyushu."

"She's not _actually_ going to make us go out in this kind of weather, is she?"

Haruka's wry, resigned look was all the answer Hotaru needed. Sighing, she went back to her room, her own shower; Haruka picked up the discarded sheets and put them back on the bed before heading for her own room.

"And this was looking like such a _nice_ day," she complained.

Outside, the wind blew a deep, roof-rattling note of sympathetic agreement before going back to its work. The wind was very easy to satisfy. Give it a few hours in which to blow at full strength, and it called the day a good one.

This was a very good day, indeed.

***MILLENNIALS***

"You call this a _minor_ storm?"

Archon's image was smiling faintly as his student let the drapes fall back into place, closing off the view of the storm. Inwardly, she sighed; no matter where she went during these sessions, the hologram of her distant tutor was always facing her when she turned around.

"It is not quite so impressive as you think," the black-eyed image told her. "When employed to its utmost, weather magic is one of the most potent and complex of all forms of spellcraft. It takes a truly masterful mage to be able to call down whirlwinds and thunderstorms with which to destroy his enemies, without being caught up in the destructive force of his own spell."

"So I'm not ready to send anyone to Oz," the student said, enjoying a brief moment of satisfaction at the obvious confusion on her master's face. Modern pop culture and slang, she had discovered, always did that to Archon. At least the first time she used a given phrase; by their next lesson, he always seemed to have found out what the various words meant. Learning Atlantean, she had discovered, was quite a bit more difficult; the fact that there were three main languages didn't help. "I called up this storm, didn't I?"

"Yes and no. You called the clouds, but the wind was already here. And you are, I must remind you, practicing your spells above the largest concentration of magical force on Earth. The overabundance of local mana energy here makes even complicated castings far easier than they would be elsewhere. To be a true wizard, you must be able to bend the forces around you to your will, to call up the necessary power from anywhere on Earth—or beyond—not just here, where the very air is all but crackling with magical energy." Archon smiled, the smile of a master to a student. "When you gain the control to harness wind on the other side of the world while you stand in an area almost dead to magic—as I did to help you create this storm—then, I think, you can call yourself a wizard. Of weather, at least."

"YOU did this? ALL this? Just to teach me a lesson?"

"Hardly." Archon's image looked at the window as an unseen force drew the drapes aside. "There is something in this city that I do not understand, a kind of magic even I am unfamiliar with. Three times now, it has interfered with plans laid both by myself and by my masters, and three times, it has cost us valuable time and resources. We have set eyes to watching this city, laid traps to test our unseen enemy until we fully know their capabilities and their purpose. Now that those traps are nearing readiness, all that is required to spring them is bait. Hence, the storm. Created by magic and sustained by magic, it will draw the notice of any who work magic, and its dangerous nature will surely compel our foe to stop it. That can only be done at its center, and with the center affixed in an area we can observe, we will at last begin to understand our enemy. And when we understand them, we will crush them."

"That might be more difficult than you think," the girl said.

"You still believe that this unseen force is connected to your 'Senshi?'"

"It fits with everything I've heard about them."

Archon shook his head. "There were Senshi in the great age of Atlantis, my student, and their powers were no greater than those of any competent wizard— and nothing at all beside the might of a true archmage. Your own powers already far exceed those of all but two Senshi I have ever known, and if those two or any other Senshi were moving against us, I would know it. I know the magic of a Senshi better than any now living, save only one—and she remembers nothing of what she knows."

"Who?"

"A traitor," Archon said, sounding almost sad. "A traitor to her friends and family, to all her people: her ancestors, whose struggles and accomplishments she destroyed; her contemporaries, whose world she left open to its enemies, to be pulled down and forgotten; to any of her descendants now living, who walk upon a primitive world, at the mercy of uncaring nature, when they could have ruled the stars." Archon sighed, his strange eyes seeing something in the distant past before they returned to the here-and-now. "Enough. You will learn about this and more when you are ready to be presented to the court of Atlantis as an accomplished wizard. And you are still a long way from being ready for that."

The girl nodded and took hold of a fine silver chain about her neck, drawing forth a small, tear-shaped translucent crystal. With a single word—a word she now understood to be the Atlantean form of 'activate'—she caused the pendant to float in the air, slowly turning.

When she had first shown this little stone to Archon, he'd called it a memory crystal, a device invented by Atlantean wizards centuries before even his time, for the purpose of storing information with far greater precision and durability than paper could provide. This one had been created about twenty-two hundred years ago, by a wizard calling himself Leoric, for the purpose of storing spells, rites, and other magical lore.

Archon knew of him, a well-loved master wizard in the days when he himself was just beginning to study magic, and remembered that the man had been killed in a duel with three rival wizards; there had been some story of a plot against the crown which Leoric uncovered, but which did not end with the three treasonous mages that he took with him into death. The other conspirators, if any existed, were never discovered, but after two of Leoric's family had mysteriously died, the rest fled the island nation in fear, vanishing into the wide world with many of Leoric's possessions. Rumors circulated for years afterwards that the family were merely in hiding, hoping to build their strength and someday return to unmask the ones who had killed their patriarch.

But Atlantis had fallen, and the world had changed. Archon suspected that the memory crystal had become an heirloom of the family, passed down through generations who gradually forgot much of its power and meaning, until it came into the hands of the student he was teaching now.

The girl had known none of that; all she knew was that the pendant had been a gift from her great-grandmother, given to her on her tenth birthday along with several books and a lengthy discourse on family history. Other people all thought her great-grandmother was a little crazy, but she'd always looked up to the old woman, who, even bedridden with age and illness at 95, had enough strength of will to make the other members of her family do what she asked, when she asked, no matter how 'crazy' it sounded. And not just strength of will, as a little ten-year-old girl had discovered.

"We're not like other people," Great-Granny had said as they sat together in her huge, comfortable bed. "Our family has old blood, older and mightier than any king or queen left on this world. A very long time ago, our ancestors ruled this world and traveled to many others. Their empire is gone, and only a half-remembered legend of it remains, but the core of their power, their magic, is still here. It's our birthright."

"Does magic really exist, Great-Granny? Mother doesn't believe in it."

"No, she doesn't, does she?" Great-Granny had sighed. "When your grandmother and her sisters—my daughters—were young, I watched them, waited to see if any of them were strong enough, if they _believed_ enough for me to share the magic with. But they weren't strong enough, or didn't believe enough, so I kept the magic to myself and waited for their daughters to be born. They all disappointed me until your mother was born; from the start, I knew she had the strength. But she was her mother's daughter, too, intelligent and practical to a fault; she didn't believe in magic. So I waited again, to see what kind of man she'd marry, whether or not there was a chance that any of their children would turn out right." Great-Granny had looked at her. "Your mother doesn't believe in magic, child, but what about your father? What does he say when you ask him about magic?"

"Daddy? He always says funny things." She'd scrunched up her face in an attempt to get her father's words right from memory. "Daddy always tells me to look around, that even if I don't see dragons or unicorns or flying people, magic's all around me. When flowers bloom, when children laugh, when you make a friend, when the sun comes up in the morning; he says it's magic enough for him."

"He's a very wise man," Great-Granny said, with a strange look of remembered fear her granddaughter hadn't understood. What could possibly scare Great-Granny?

"But none of those things are magic," she'd protested. "I heard in school that the sun comes up because the Earth goes around it and turns while it does, and that's why we have night, because we're not always facing the sun. Flowers bloom because they're supposed to bloom, and I laugh when I think something's funny. None of it is magic."

"Better to say that they aren't _caused_ by magic," Great-Granny told her. "At least, not any kind of magic people can use. But that doesn't mean that they stop _being_ magic, you understand?"

"I think so."

Great-Granny had hugged her. "I think you do, too. I always knew you'd be the one; you've got your mother's mind, but you use it like your father uses his, and you're brave enough to look for things he can't or won't see. Watch closely; I'll show you a little magic." And she'd made one of her books get up and fly around the room by itself, circling over and around them and turning end-for-end to settle in an amazed little girl's hands. "That's about all the magic I can do these days," Great-Granny said, coughing. "I used to be able to do all kinds of things, but it's gotten harder as I've gotten older. I expect the day I die, I either won't be able to use any magic at all, or I'll die in the attempt."

"Great-Granny, you can't die! You're my only friend!"

"Hush, child. I can die, and one of these days, I will die; not even magic can change that. Not now, at least." She sighed. "I'd be surprised if I make it to next spring."

*So soon?* "But... but who'll teach me?"

"My books will." Great-Granny waved one hand, taking in the book in the child's hands and a dozen others like it, almost all of them too big for her to carry any more than two or maybe three at a time. Then she'd taken off the little pendant she always wore, the crystal on a chain no one had ever seen her without. "And so will this. It's the only thing we have left of what we used to be, and it's where everything in these books came from. You could say that the books are just an introduction to what's inside that little stone."

Opening the first book, the smallest of the lot, the little girl had found weird, nonsense-looking words in her great-grandmother's writing. "But I can't read this!"

"It's easy, once you know how. The words are all in that little crystal, but they're written differently, and things can go wrong if you say them wrong, so I translated as many of them as I could. You say these words like they're written, see? I'll show you." Great-Granny took the book in one hand, her great- grandchild in the other, and looked at the pile of books. "You know, those books are awfully heavy. Why don't we move them to your room in your house, so your mother doesn't know?" Great-Granny turned a few pages, then read some of the words. One of the books immediately vanished. She made three more disappear, then had her granddaughter try.

She got it on the first try. "Did it work? Did I do it right?"

"You did it _exactly_ right," Great-Granny said, hugging her. "See how easy it is? Try it with the rest."

She'd done that, and it got easier each time. Finally, all the books except the first were gone. Great-Granny took it, repeated the funny words, and sent it to join the rest.

"That was fun!"

"I knew I was right about you," Great-Granny said. "It took me three months of practice to get that spell right. If you work hard, you'll be even better than I was."

"I'll be the best!"

"Now, child, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You have to be careful about what you decide to do with magic. If you use it right, and if you're strong enough, magic can give you almost anything you want or need. But you have to give back something to the magic, too. Sometimes all you have to do is give up a little time so you can study, but other times, using the magic may hurt you. You remember when you broke your arm?"

She'd nodded; it had hurt worse than anything.

"Sometimes the magic will hurt just as much. Sometimes it can hurt even more, but in different ways. If you're really going to use the magic, if you're _really_ going to be the best, you have to be ready for the pain. If you can do something or get something by yourself, you probably should, even if the magic seems easier. Use your mind, think and learn. You make yourself stronger that way, see? You still get what you want, you learn things about the world, and you save the magic for when you really need it. Understand?"

"Yes. I promise, Great-Granny. I'll make you proud of me."

"I already am, child."

Great-Granny had died in her sleep that night. A few days later, at the funeral, everyone had been surprised when her favorite grandchild hadn't cried; Mother and Father had worried about her for a long time. They didn't know—nobody did—about the books; Great-Granny had written all of them, and that meant they were part of her, still here, still with her great-granddaughter even when the rest of her was gone.

She remembered her promise and studied, both in Great-Granny's books and at school, and made herself as strong as she could be, as smart as she could be. Smarter and stronger and _better_ than anyone else, and learning a little more each day. She was going to show everyone, to be the best in school, and everything after that.

But then she realized that, as good as she was, everybody was talking about someone else, about HER, about how special SHE was, how clever SHE was, how pretty, how SHE'd really make something of HERself someday. She'd tried and tried and tried, but always come out second best to HER. She'd even tried to use magic to fix things, but found, to her utter dismay, that none of the spells in Great-Granny's books seemed to work against HER.

Then her parents had decided to move, and SHE was gone. Everyone at the new school talked about her, was impressed by her, and even her magic was working like it should—but knowing that SHE was still out there, that she was still only second best to HER, made it all empty. She knew, or came to know, that someday they'd meet again, so she went at her studies for all she was worth, learning everything she could, finding out how to understand the words in the crystal, learning spells even Great-Granny hadn't known, always getting ready to face HER again.

Months back, she'd used a spell to find HER, to gather whatever information she could. It was sickening; everyone was still talking about HER, acting like SHE was some sort of queen or goddess or miracle made flesh. And now, she had learned, SHE had friends just like HER, and everyone talked about THEM, how special THEY were...

Without ever meeting THEM, she hated THEM.

It had taken a little bit of doing, but she'd convinced her parents to transfer her to another school, a school with a very good reputation—even better, to her mind, because it was a school near where SHE lived, where THEY lived, and was exactly the kind of school SHE would have gone to. The perfect place to take back everything SHE had taken from her, by taking everything SHE had now. Everything THEY had.

Her first attempt had failed miserably; whatever had made her magic go wrong before was still there. It had to be something about HER, because she knew her control of the magic was much too good to be defeated so easily. After several tests to confirm that and find the limits of whatever strange protection SHE had, she decided to use one of her most dangerous spells, confident that it would work, that the creature the spell called would be able to do what she could not, to drag HER down, to drag all of THEM down and ruin THEM.

And she'd summoned Archon instead. At first, that had seemed to be another failure, but now she knew it had been a success, of sorts. She was learning things from the black-eyed archmage that she'd only dared to dream possible before, was getting stronger all the time. And when the day she now dreamed of finally arrived, when Archon confirmed that she was indeed ready...

But that day was not today. Today was a day for learning.

***MILLENNIALS***

Proteus watched the lesson continue, its tiny sensory extension carefully monitoring and recording every word and gesture made by the two figures, transmitting that information through a mile-wide network of concealed cables of some weird, ropy substance that was almost, but not quite, fungus.

Elsewhere, in a different part of that ever-growing network, another part of Proteus watched with sensory nodes that saw far more than any human eyes as the heart of the spell-conjured storm continued to swirl with magical force. This part of the entity also sent everything it observed back into the vast network, sharing the information with all parts of Proteus.

At the center of the web, in the walls and under the floors of the telecommunications center, the living core of Proteus, the closest thing it possessed to a heart or a brain, received information from these two sources and dozens more like them, processing it all at tremendous speed. Learning. Understanding.

From its enslaved minds and from countless absorbed records, Proteus had learned that most humans regarded magic and science as two entirely separate forces, two things with no common ground, no way to coexist. The very existence of the memory crystal disproved this; magic had created it, but Proteus, observing the patterns of its molecular and atomic and even subatomic makeup, suspected that science could duplicate it. And as Proteus watched the seemingly chaotic ebb and flow of the storm-shaping magic, it began to believe the same thing; magic did this, but science could also do this.

It was, Proteus was beginning to think—to believe?—all a matter of energy. Positive and negative and neutral energy, hot and cold and mild, light and dark and shadow; whether invoked by magic or harnessed according to the laws of science, energy was at the center of it all. Once the energy was tapped, the _how_ of its control made very little difference. That the control existed at all was enough. And there was, as Archon had told his student, energy almost beyond measure in this place.

Others, Proteus had learned, had come to seize this power before. Traces of their presence, echoes of dark energy scattered over the city, confirmed the unclear reports of the humans, told Proteus that others like the master and Archon—and itself—had been here before, seeking the power of this place.

Obviously, they had failed. *Reason enough for caution. Reason enough to wait, until I know more, until I understand better, before acting.*

Based on its study of the human records, of the minds of its slaves, and a careful, methodical calculation of probabilities, Proteus concluded with a high degree of certainty that Archon's student had made the correct analysis, that these mysterious 'Senshi' were in some manner connected to the destroyer-force, regardless of what Archon believed. Interesting, how an ordinary human mind had reached the same conclusion as Proteus' own, made the same connection, and yet done it with such limited information to draw upon. Intuition, that was the word. It was a trait Proteus did not possess. At least, not yet.

It was not the only one. There were many things about humans Proteus still found incomprehensible, things in how they thought or did not think, in how they felt or did not feel, which mere observation and analysis seemed unable to explain. In spite of their many shortcomings, Proteus was beginning to develop a curious feeling towards humans, something that its rational thought pattern could not identify, but which the captured minds suggested might be respect.

As with the matter of energy, this would require more thought.

***MILLENNIALS***

Other than Usagi, the members of the Tsukino household were typically up and around well in advance of eight in the morning. Not today, however.

After fixing a short, high-energy breakfast consisting primarily of spiced omelettes, honeyed rice, and a few of those little flat sausages for herself and Setsuna—and a fresh can of tuna cat food for Luna—Ikuko had put her guest to work, helping out with the dishes.

As Usagi could attest, Ikuko was a firm believer in chores, but to tell the truth, Setsuna didn't mind. These people had taken her in without cause or complaint, and the least she could do in return was to dry a few dishes. She even found something strangely comforting in the almost mindless routine of sweeping up with broom and dustpan, or scrubbing flecks of food from a plate.

It was just that she didn't see how Ikuko had any real _need_ for the extra help. The older woman was the ultimate housewife, equal parts waiter, cook, secretary, janitor, and maid, and all mother—and it showed.

In the midst of drying one plate, Ikuko had the phone caught between her head and shoulder, informing someone named Yoruno in a sweet, overwhelming sort of voice that Kenji wouldn't be in for work today, what with all the snow, and asking how was Neiko, and how had Masada done on that last report card, and so on. That done, Ikuko set down the plate and briefly disappeared upstairs to inform her family that there would be neither school nor work today, and that they might as well go back to sleep. In Usagi's case, she didn't even have to do that much, and instead just switched off the alarm—and the second alarm—pulled the blankets up a little better, kissed her daughter's forehead, and quietly left the room.

With no urgent need to be anywhere, it was almost nine-thirty before any signs of life manifested themselves upstairs, a slightly bleary-eyed ChibiUsa wandering downstairs to the first faint sounds and smells of sizzling bacon and cooking pancakes as Setsuna's re-education in the finer arts of cooking continued. Kenji and Shingo followed close behind, and Usagi brought up the rear at about ten. Strangely, of all the late risers, it was Usagi who showed the least signs of having overslept. In a twisted sort of way, that made sense.

Most of the late breakfast had been packed away by the time the phone rang. Shingo and ChibiUsa were fighting over the last pancake while Usagi stole a few pieces of bacon from both of them; Kenji had withdrawn to the living room some time before, to read the newspaper in peace; Ikuko was busy attending to the dishes, preparing another round of toast, and refereeing the battle between her son and 'niece,' to say nothing of the ruckus that ensued when Usagi's thievery was discovered; and Luna couldn't have picked up the phone anyway.

So Setsuna lifted the receiver, shut out the steadily increasing sounds of squealing—Usagi was very ticklish—and greeted the caller.

"Tsukino residence; can I help you?"

"Setsuna?" Haruka's voice. "Is that you?"

"I've asked myself that question a number of times."

There was a pause. "There's a reason I'm not taking that morning Philosophy course at the university," Haruka muttered, half to Setsuna, half to herself. "Look, could you get Usagi? Something strange is going on. I think."

"You think?"

"Michiru's been going nuts for the last half hour or so, saying that this weather we're having isn't natural. Something about the water being out of place, I think she said." Haruka paused again. "I'm starting to understand what she means. Something in the air, the wind... it just feels _wrong_ somehow. It's like..."

BEEEEP!

"Hang on a second," Setsuna apologized, putting Haruka on hold and switching to the incoming call. "Tsukino residence."

"Setsuna?" Ami, this time.

"Hello, Ami-chan. By any chance, are you calling to tell me that this blizzard isn't supposed to be here?"

Another pause, followed by a curious, "How did you know?"

"Haruka's on the other line, and she..."

BEEEEP!

"Excuse me a moment," Setsuna said, again switching lines. "Hello?"

"Hello, Setsuna." Rei.

*Why does that not surprise me?* Setsuna thought. "Hello, Rei. Yes, I know that the blizzard's not of natural origins."

Yet another pause. This time, the reply was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, sorry. I just thought... could you hold on for just a second? Thanks." Setsuna held the receiver to her shoulder while she looked at the buttons, trying to remember which one enabled the 'conference call' function. Usagi had shown it to her the first day, and it was... that one. "Is everyone still there?" Three voices answered yes. "Good. Now would you all just hold on for one more second?" Setsuna glanced at the table. "Usagi-chan? It's for you."

In the middle of fending off two irritated younger relatives, Usagi smiled gratefully and rushed over to the safety of the phonecall. "Thanks, Setsuna. Hello?"

"Hello, Usagi-chan," Ami said. "We've got a problem." She quickly explained about the storm, with Haruka making several sounds of agreement; Rei remained quiet. "I've been trying to pin down the source of the disturbance for the last two hours," Ami continued, "and I think I've got the location, but when I tried to identify the type of energy involved, my computer shut down."

Usagi blinked. "It shut down."

"Three times," Ami confirmed. "It starts up again with no problems, and it traces the disturbance, but each time I tell it to analyze the thing, I get a message in some kind of language I can't read. I think it's some sort of request for password identification, because about thirty seconds afterwards, the system shuts itself off."

"Has it ever done that to you before?" Rei asked.

"Not once." Ami sounded worried, and the others could understand why. She'd been using that little blue computer for so long, under so many dangerous or extreme circumstances, that it had become far more than just a tool; as much as the fire at Hikawa was a part of Rei or the Space Sword a part of Haruka, so too was the computer to Ami. The thought that it might be keeping something from her, that it might not _trust_ her enough to tell her something, was unsettling. "Usagi, I really need to talk to Luna about this."

"No argument there, but have you looked outside? I haven't seen this much snow since we went up to the D-Point; Luna'd never make it all the way to Mako-chan's by herself." Usagi thought for a minute, looked around to make sure nobody was paying too much attention, then lowered her voice before continuing. "Ami, if you transformed, do you think you could get over here?"

"Easily."

"And of the three of you, who's closest to this disturbance you mentioned?"

"I am," Ami replied. "It's about ten blocks from Mako-chan's apartment."

"Okay. You get down here as fast as you can, and Luna and I'll meet you on the upstairs balcony; remember, I'm in a different room. Haruka, Rei, get over to Mako-chan's and wait there until Ami-chan gets back so you can move in on this thing."

"Michiru's not going to like this," Haruka predicted gloomily.

"She doesn't have to like it as long as she does it," Usagi said flatly. "And somebody should try to get in touch with Mina-chan and let her know what's going on."

"I'll get Mako-chan to do that before I leave," Ami promised. "See you in a few."

"G'bye." Usagi hung up the phone.

"Who was that, dear?"

"Hmm? Oh, just Ami-chan." Usagi made up a story on the spot. "She's helping me with some things in history class by downloading stuff off the 'net, but her computer blew a fuse on her or something and lost most of it. She's a little upset about that, but she called to let me know she might be a bit late with the study aids." Usagi stretched and yawned theatrically, noting that both Luna and ChibiUsa had started paying attention when she mentioned Ami's 'computer problems.' "I think I'm going to go back to bed for a while. Wake me up if it looks like I'm going to sleep through lunch, okay, Mom?"

"Okay, dear."

Usagi started towards the stairs. "Coming, Luna?"

"Meow." Luna crossed the kitchen and followed Usagi upstairs, keeping up the ordinary cat act until they were out of earshot, at which point she looked up. "What's going on, Usagi?"

"Something strange is happening to Mercury's computer, so she's coming over to talk to you about it."

"Did she say what was wrong?"

"This blizzard isn't a natural event," Usagi explained. "Ami-chan, Michiru, and Haruka can all notice something wrong with it, like it shouldn't be here. Ami was able to find out the location of whatever's causing it, but every time she tries to identify it, her computer locks her out and then shuts itself down."

"I don't like where this is headed," Luna said as they entered the bedroom.

"You're not the only one," Usagi noted, closing the door behind them. They sat on the bed and waited for several minutes until a faint knock came from the glass door; Usagi pulled back the curtains and found Mercury's slightly snow-frosted self waiting on the balcony. *Funny,* Usagi thought. *Ice and snow don't look all that bad on her. Sort of brings out the blue in the uniform.*

"What a day," Mercury said, brushing snow off herself but otherwise not looking at all like someone who'd just run halfway across town in the middle of a blizzard. "Sorry about the mess."

"I took precautions," Usagi said, handing Mercury a towel and pointing at the other one under her boots. "The rest'll evaporate, won't it?"

"What's wrong with your computer?" Luna asked.

"Take a look for yourself." Mercury sat down on the floor next to the bed, took out her computer, entered a few commands, then held it up so Luna could see the result. Usagi peeked over their combined shoulders to see what all the fuss was about.

The computer's tiny screen showed a map of part of Tokyo, with weird lines superimposed over it in a sort of spiraling pattern. The spiral was centered over a small flashing block, and when Mercury pressed another button, the computer began a familiar series of beeps as it started to analyze whatever was in the red area.

The device made a sudden whirring noise as all functions displayed on its screen came to an abrupt halt. The screen went blurry as the map and the spiral were replaced by several lines of odd silvery symbols on a black background. The only symbol Usagi recognized was the one at the bottom, the same upturned crescent they had all long since come to associate with the Moon Kingdom, but there was something uncannily familiar about the entire sequence of characters.

Luna hissed in amazement. "The Silver Script!"

"The what?" Usagi and Mercury asked together.

"The Silver Script," Luna repeated. "It was the major form of writing used on the Moon Kingdom, and most of the other worlds adopted it during the Silver Millennium for use in administrative records and diplomatic dispatches. I haven't seen it in..."

"Never mind that," Usagi interrupted. "Can you _read_ it?"

Luna looked slightly annoyed. "Of course I can. So could you, if you'd just stop and think for a minute. 'Security lockout,'" Luna began to read, her eyebrows rising as she continued. "'By Royal Decree, access to the following information is restricted exclusively to members of the Silver Council, Eclipse-level authorization. Identity verification required for further access. Enter password.'" Luna sat back on her haunches as the screen went dark. "Oh my."

"That was about as clear as mud," Usagi grumbled. "What was it talking about, Luna?"

"The Silver Council is, or rather, _was_ the absolute upper level of authority during the Silver Millennium," Luna explained. "It was made up of the rulers of the various planets and a few of their chosen champions, with the Queen of the Moon as the council's head. They dealt exclusively with matters that affected all the planets, all the races."

"Then you must know the password, right? You and Artemis _were_ Queen Serenity's advisors, after all."

Luna shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mercury, but I don't know the password. Artemis and I advised Serenity in her capacity as Queen of the Moon and oversaw the education of the children of the Royal Court, but we weren't part of the Silver Council."

"Maybe we could guess the password?" Usagi suggested.

"Absolutely not!" Luna snapped. "First of all, the password could be absolutely anything, and we don't have the time to sit around trying to guess it. Secondly, we'd only get one chance to get in, and the next step in verification would be a retinal scan. And since every last member of the Silver Council has been dead for over a thousand years..."

"What about us?"

Luna shook her head. "Wouldn't work. None of you were old enough back then to have been part of the Council, and even if you had been, you don't have the same eyes anymore. Besides, not many Senshi were full members of the Council. Certainly not up to the Eclipse level."

"Why not?"

"Because they were _soldiers,_ Usagi," Luna said, exasperated. "The Senshi were the bodyguards and personal agents of the Royal Family, so they could end up almost anywhere in the system—or even outside it—on short notice, and even during the Silver Millennium, a lot of those places weren't safe. The Council simply couldn't risk having someone with full security clearance being captured or turned against them."

"Oh. So where does this leave us?"

Luna glanced out the window. "I think the best we can do is for Artemis and I to go with the girls when they investigate whatever's going on out there. There's a chance that we _might_ be able to tell what it is." She looked at the snow again and shuddered. "This is not going to be pleasant."

Mercury sighed, then nodded. "I was afraid this might happen, so I brought something along." She put her computer away, placing it into whatever separate chunk of reality her power allowed her to access; from that same place, Mercury pulled out a small blue backpack. Opening the top revealed it to be stuffed with what looked like a folded-up towel or small blanket. There was just enough space for Luna.

"That was very thoughtful of you, Mercury." Luna was all but purring as she climbed into the snug little space.

"The top folds over far enough so that you'll stay dry and relatively warm, but you won't be able to open it from the inside. It was the best I could come up with," Mercury apologized.

"It'll do fine, just as long as you don't start swinging me around." Mercury nodded, waited for Luna to make herself comfortable, and then closed the pack. As she slipped her arms into the straps, Mercury glanced at Usagi.

"After we've dealt with this, I think we're going to have to get everyone together for a meeting. That includes you, Setsuna, and ChibiUsa, so you'd better think of something that'll convince your mother to let you out of the house in this kind of weather."

"Not to worry," Usagi said grandly. "You said this wasn't a natural storm, and every time we've gone up against something messing with the weather, things went back to normal as soon as we took out the source."

"You've got a point, there." Mercury stopped at the threshold, switching on her visor to help her find her way through the blowing snow. "Guess we'll find out in a little while whether you're right or not."

***MILLENNIALS***

Not for the first time, Anon was contemplating a career change.

There were certain tasks required to keep a city the size of Tokyo running, certain jobs that simply could not be interrupted without serious consequences resulting. One group of such jobs included things such as police, fire, and medical services, things which, in a pinch, the city could continue to function without. At least for a little while. The other group of jobs were things like power and water, which absolutely had to be maintained at all times.

As a maintenance technician at one of the city power plants, Anon's job fell into that second category. Like everybody else, he had a carefully defined and negotiated set of working hours, but unlike everybody else, Anon was one of a small handful of specialists who knew how to get a stubborn, old-model generator at the plant up to speed. Only three other people knew how to keep the monster everyone referred to as 'Smoking Joe' from overheating itself and shutting down half of the surrounding district; one of those three was taking a two-week vacation in Australia, another was out with the flu, and the third was working his twelfth straight hour, and would soon be beyond the reach of even the most potent coffee.

Which left Anon to trudge through the waist-deep drifts, the icy, blinding spray of still-falling snow, and this howling wind that seemed to have come from somewhere well above the arctic circle.

*I don't deserve this,* he thought, speaking to whatever higher power happened to be looking down and listening at that particular instant. *I work hard, I pay my taxes, I even do volunteer work at that children's shelter. So just once, why can't I have something _nice_ happen to me?*

This time, apparently, somebody _was_ listening. Somebody with a slightly twisted sense of humor.

Head down to help keep the sleet out of his face, Anon turned the next corner and ran smack into something, falling over backwards into the nearest snowbank. He looked up, half-ready to yell at whoever'd walked into him...

Anon wondered briefly if that blow to the head had jarred something loose in his brain; in his experience, beautiful blue-eyed young women did not typically run around in miniskirts during blizzards. Although he had to admit, it did look good on her. The wide visor was a nice touch, too; practical, but stylish.

Part of Anon's brain had, in fact, been jarred loose. This part, which dealt mostly with long-term memory, picked up immediately on who this young lady must be, and started raising nine kinds of neural stink to get Anon's attention. Unfortunately, the ruckus went unnoticed.

*Did she just say something?* "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said, are you all right?"

"I was going to ask you that. Isn't it a bit cold to be wearing... well, that?"

The disjointed section of brain held up a chemically-induced flag which essentially read, 'Hey, nitwit!', but again, Anon failed to notice.

The woman laughed. "I'm fine. Cold doesn't bother me."

"I'd say not."

"Are you out here for any particular reason?"

"I'm trying to get to work," Anon said, shouting over a sudden blast of wind and pulling his fur-lined hood a little further forwards.

"In all _this?_" She seemed surprised. "Is it important?"

"Well, it's not an emergency yet, but it may be if this weather slows me down much longer. What about you? Same sort of situation?"

The cut-off region of grey matter started banging itself, lobe-first, against the nearest available wall—the inside of Anon's skull—in a fit of sheer, impotent frustration.

"Oh, definitely. Where are you headed?" Anon told her, and the young lady shook her head, dislodging snow from her hair. "I hate to say this, but you're headed the wrong way." She seemed to think something over for a minute. "I guess a little side trip can't hurt. Come on; I'll get you to where you're going." She took one of his thickly-gloved hands in her own and started off. Anon couldn't quite understand how she was able to run fast enough to pull him along at such a speed.

About two minutes later, they were at the entrance gate to the power plant, and the young blue-haired lady let go of Anon's hand.

"That was quick," he said, surprised. "You certainly have a good sense of direction."

For some reason, that made her laugh. "Comes with the job."

"Well, thanks."

"You're welcome." And she vanished into the snow. Anon shook his head and headed for the gate; the guard had come out of the security booth and was staring at him in astonishment.

"Something wrong, Kige-san?" Anon greeted the man.

"Uh, Syumo-san... was that who I think it was?"

Anon opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that, but at that moment, the connection between short and long-term memory was finally reestablished, and everything his brain had been trying to tell him came rushing forwards. All that came out of his mouth was a strangled wheeze.

Victorious at last, the little region of Anon's brain collapsed in utter exhaustion, suggesting to its neighbors that a good stiff drink would probably be in order.

The rest of the brain agreed.

***MILLENNIALS***

Arriving at the door to Makoto's apartment, Mercury quickly looked around to make sure nobody was watching and then ducked inside, transforming back to Ami as she headed for the living room.

What she'd told the man was true; normal levels of cold really didn't bother her. Ami suspected that she could jump into the nearest river and then stand around in winds even colder than this for hours and not get sick.

That didn't mean she enjoyed being cold and wet. The switch back dealt with the damp, clinging layer of snow, and the considerably higher temperature of the apartment would quickly deal with the chill in her flesh.

Though in all honesty, the glare Michiru had fixed on her would probably have sufficed to deal with the snow and the chill on its own. While Michiru had many admirable traits and enviable talents, her ability to wait around for others was not among them; she had patience in abundance, but once she made up her mind to do something, Michiru did it. Anyone and anything that slowed her down did so at its own peril. She usually hid it better, but Ami guessed that Michiru's own disrupted weather-sense was making her edgier than normal. Ami wasn't exactly rolling in patience herself, at the moment.

"Welcome back." The impatience was strongly evident in those two words.

*I wonder how they managed to keep her here this long.* "Hello, Michiru. Sorry I took so long; I made a detour to help somebody who got lost in the snow."

"What's with the backpack?" Rei asked.

"Travel accommodations." Ami set the pack down and opened the top. "You okay in there, Luna?"

"Just fine." Luna sprang out, stretching. "Hello, girls. Where's Minako?"

"Would you believe we're not sure?" Makoto smiled ruefully. "I called her place twice; the phone was busy the first time, and the second time, her mother said she was actually outside somewhere. We tried her communicator a few times, but she either doesn't have it, can't hear it, or just isn't answering it."

Luna frowned. "I think we'd better find her. I wasn't able to figure a way past the problem with Ami's computer, so there's no way to be sure what we might be up against, and we might need all the extra firepower we can get."

"I can probably track her down," Ami said. "Assuming whatever's keeping me from identifying the source of this storm hasn't..."

The doorbell rang. Rei looked at the others.

"You don't suppose...?" From their expressions, they did suppose. Hotaru was the closest, so she got up and went to answer the door. When she returned a moment later, she was struggling not to laugh.

The bundle of clothes that accompanied her was identifiable as Minako only because they knew Usagi was at home, and it simply couldn't have been anyone else. A heavy, hooded winter jacket and matched snowpants bulged outwards on who knew how many internal layers; fingered mittens the size of boxing gloves nicely complemented the massive woolen socks; a thick, bright red scarf hid most of the face, and the blue ski mask handled the rest.

"Hi, guys." The voice was muffled about three times over, but it was definitely Minako. "Mako-chan, I got your message, but as you can see, it's kind of hard to get at my wrist like this." She lowered one arm, producing a slow, massive shift in the stacked fabric, to demonstrate the point.

"So instead of going inside your house, dressing down, and calling back," Haruka said slowly, "you decided to set out in the middle of what has to be the worst blizzard to hit this town in any of our lifetimes, crossed I don't know how many blocks..."

"Seven," Minako supplied helpfully.

"...with streets buried in snow almost up to your waist, to ask in person what the message was?"

"Hey, like they say, 'neither rain nor snow, rabid pitbulls nor feisty felines...'"

"Speaking of felines," Luna interrupted, "I assume Artemis is back at your place?"

"Oh no, he's right here." Minako turned—shuffled would probably be a better word—and called back into the front room. "Artemis, Luna wants to talk to you."

"I'm not coming in there."

"Quit being such a baby," Minako said heartlessly. After a moment, Artemis slunk into the living room.

Or rather, something that was vaguely cat-shaped slunk in. Like Minako, it was wrapped in layer upon layer of protective gear, pet sweaters and modified human winter gear all tucked and folded into something only Minako could have dreamed up. Even the tail had been given added defense against the elements, bound up in a coiled, many-colored scarf. The little red bow attached to the tip was the crowning touch.

"If anybody laughs," Artemis said in a dark, humorless tone, "if anyone so much as cracks a smile, I'm going to shred every stitch of clothing in her wardrobe, one seam at a time."

"So," Minako said, throwing back her hood and lifting off the ski mask, "what's up?"

***MILLENNIALS***

"Why did you let her do that to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The cats were sharing space in a slightly larger backpack, carried by Mercury as the assembled Senshi crossed the wintry streets to face whatever awaited them, literally, at the heart of the storm. They kept a close formation as they moved, with Mercury in the lead, keeping them on course by tracking the anomalous energy reading with her visor.

"Didn't you even _try_ to talk her into staying indoors?"

"I said I DON'T want to talk about it."

"Or at least not to use that ridiculous bow?"

"LUNA!"

They stopped moving, and the top of the pack opened up. Mars was looking in.

"We're here. And you've got to see this." The cats climbed out, balancing on Mercury's shoulders, and saw.

The Senshi were standing atop a moderately tall highrise, at that point where suburbs and urban center tended to overlap, all of them looking in at the heart of the city—and one building in particular, a skyscraper less than a block away, about which weird, blue-white energy danced and crackled. The sky overhead was thick with stormclouds, but also suffused with a brilliant glow from the twisting arcs of power. Strangely, there was no wind and far less snow here, at the heart of the disturbance, than in the rest of the city; much like the eye of a hurricane, the center of this unnatural storm was almost peaceful, surrounded by atmospheric fury.

"Luna," Artemis said, suddenly sounding very worried. "Look up there. On top of the building. Is that what I think it is?"

Luna looked. She was only half-surprised to note that the upper levels of the skyscraper had been taken over by more of the creeping green substance this newest enemy appeared to favor, four high spires of the stuff climbing above the roof while a dozen others projected out from the base, almost level with the roof. At the tips of the tallest spires, an orb of incandescent energy spun and sparkled, casting energy off in all directions and drawing it in from just as many places, multicolored lightning bolts flashing into and out of the sky.

She didn't know what the green stuff was, but she recognized the shape it had formed. It explained a lot of questions, but posed a lot more, and Luna knew she wasn't going to like the answers.

"It is, Artemis. And this has to be a trap of some kind."

"I must have missed something," Jupiter said. "How does looking at a piece of sculpted mold tell you this is a trap?"

"That's not a sculpture, Jupiter. It's called a mana nexus, and it's... well, for now, all you need to know is that it's not the sort of thing you build on a whim. One that size would have taken weeks to align properly, and whoever built it didn't leave it out in the open like that by accident. They had to know somebody would notice it once it was active; that entire building's probably filled with that green stuff."

"That's a _big_ building," Venus noted nervously.

"We had enough problems with one the size of a cafe," Mars said. "How do we deal with something _that_ size?"

"Invest in an industrial-strength weed-whacker?" Saturn supplied helpfully, hefting the Silence Glaive.

"Keep that idea in reserve," Luna advised. "There just might be another way. Mercury, Neptune, Uranus, you all said you could feel something wrong about this storm." The three Senshi nodded, and Luna looked at the others. "Did any of the rest of you notice anything strange about the weather?"

"Nope."

"No."

"Not a thing."

"Nada."

"Three against a nexus?" Artemis asked. "Luna, isn't that a little... dicey?"

"We've got to try and spread out the energy," Luna said. "If we just turn Saturn loose, the blast will probably wipe out everything within a block of that building."

"It's _that_ powerful?" Jupiter asked.

"Not by itself." Luna seemed to debate something. "I suppose you do need to know a little about this. The nexus is designed to pull in and concentrate energy. Whoever built it seems to have set it to draw purely on water, wind, and ice, but any other form of power that touches it will be absorbed as well, magnified, and then spit back out at about ten times its original strength."

Saturn immediately put the Glaive down.

"What does this have to do with us?" Uranus asked.

"There are two ways to shut down a mana nexus that you don't know how to control; you either throw enough power at it to overload the thing and then run like crazy when it explodes, or you take away the power it's drawing. You three can control the elements involved here, so I'm hoping you'll be able to overpower the nexus."

"They'd have to be spread out to do it," Artemis said, still sounding doubtful.

"Mercury, we'll need your computer to coordinate this; you've all got to be in just the right spot. And switch on your communicators, all of you. You'll need instructions. Jupiter, Neptune, go that way; Mars, Uranus, go there. We'll tell you when to stop."

It took about six minutes for the Senshi to get into positions that fit whatever plan Luna was operating by. Looking at her computer, Mercury saw that she, Neptune, and Uranus formed the points of a large, equilateral triangle, with the building at the exact center.

"That's good," Luna said. "Now everyone, listen carefully. Mars, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn, you're going to have to be ready to fight off anything that might come out of that building. Don't be flashy, and don't waste time—and whatever else you do, keep Mercury, Neptune, and Uranus clear of danger. They aren't going to be able to do anything to defend themselves once we get started."

"The more I hear of this plan of yours, Luna, the less I like it."

"Sorry, Uranus, but we don't have much choice. You and Neptune get your Talismans out; their presence will help you focus your thoughts and handle the energy better. And maybe," she added doubtfully, with a worried glance, "take some of the pressure off of Mercury."

"I'll be fine, Luna."

Luna didn't seem convinced. "I want the three of you to gather up as much energy as you think you can safely carry, just like you were preparing for an attack. Don't let it go; just hold it steady." Luna waited for several moments, watching Mercury closely as she concentrated on the building force. "All right. Now, while you keep the level of energy constant, push out with your thoughts. You each know the different forces you're tapping; picture them as lines in the ground and in the air. Picture them in your thoughts, and use your power to find them."

This was something of a challenge. The pressure of holding the gathered power, while not painful, was a slight strain against the mind, making the sort of mental exercise Luna was describing difficult. Slowly, the three Senshi began to feel a strange sort of thrumming around them, like the vibration of a drum being constantly struck. Each became acutely aware of her own heartbeat, pulsing in its own rhythm, as well as the weird feeling of the energy hanging in their minds, bodies, and some other distant place. Each Senshi could almost see cords of energy winding through the ground, climbing up into themselves and into the huge swirl of power atop the skyscraper, while funnels of similar force reached down out of the clouds.

"Do you see it?" Mercury nodded, unable to spare enough attention to form words. "Good," Luna said. "Now, I want you to reach out with your own energy and connect to all the cords you see linked to the nexus. Take it slowly; you may feel a little strange the first few times."

'Strange' didn't come close. When Mercury touched the nearest of the glowing lines, the energy in her mind was suddenly siphoned away, draining out so quickly that she could actually feel a slithering in her mind, her body. It reminded her very much of the reaction produced by someone drawing their nails across a blackboard, except that now it went on and on and on. The lines that connected only to her restored the lost energy as quickly as it was drained, so the flow didn't stop, but this also meant that the unpleasant reaction went on as well.

Gritting her teeth, Mercury reached for a second line; the flow slowed briefly and then resumed, neither stronger nor weaker than with just one line. Linking to the third line was easier, and the fourth, easier still. Soon, she had completed this stage of the task.

"How do you feel?" Luna asked.

"Queasy," Mercury admitted. "Sort of hot and cold at the same time."

"I feel like every hurricane ever spawned is running loose in my blood," Uranus said, breathing heavily. "Neptune?"

"I'm going to need a bath when this is over," her partner replied. "Kamis, this feels awful."

"Hold on, all of you. We're at the worst part. You can all feel the flow of energy going into the nexus, right?" There was a chorus of 'yes'-es, and Luna took a deep breath. "Okay. When I tell you, focus everything you can, all the energy and willpower you can hold onto, and pull away from the nexus _without_ breaking contact with it. You have to do this all at once, and you can't stop until the nexus shuts down. Understood?"

"On three," Neptune said.

"Right. One... two... three!"

They pulled. The flow dragged to a halt, started to reverse, energy now flowing from the nexus into and through the Senshi, and from there, back into the air and the dirt and wherever else it came from.

The nexus went berserk. Lightning shot out in wide swathes, trailing fiery sparks as they cut through the sky in mind-jarring thunderclaps. The previously calm eye of the storm exploded in winds that screamed in a hundred different directions, blowing icy daggers and red-hot gouts of steam ahead of them. The building shook and rattled and rang like the world's largest tuning fork, and the smooth sphere of energy at its peak became a shifting, amorphous blob, out of control.

"If they didn't know we were here before," Artemis shouted over the chaos, "they do now!"

"Ya think?" Venus shouted back.

Explosions reached them from somewhere near the base of the building. As Luna had predicted, a shambling, manlike mass of green had emerged to investigate the disturbance that was tearing its home apart; Jupiter and Mars tag-teamed the creature, stunning it with electrified fireballs before Jupiter lifted and hurled it bodily back through the front door, a sweeping gout of flames hot on its heels.

Another of the creatures appeared almost directly in front of the three Senshi, its shoulders bristling with masses of the red eye-beads. Venus remembered the streaking red energy beams those 'eyes' could launch, and threw herself at the thing before it could open fire, curling up in midair to form a living cannonball and ruin the enemy's balance.

The trick worked, but Venus had forgotten the springy, almost elastic nature of these creatures; it staggered backwards while she was sent in the other direction, landing roughly on the rooftop. Venus recovered instantly and sprang away as the thing's shoulders erupted in a wall of artillery-like fire, countering the barrage with a Beam Shower at the peak of her jump to keep its attention off Mercury.

Venus cursed when she saw a third creature leap up from somewhere below, with bits and pieces of what looked like an office supply room and a photocopier sticking to it. Saturn saw it as well and attacked, bringing her weapon around in a wide, whistling arc at the same moment as a jet of high-velocity paper burst from the creature's midsection.

Even when propelled to a degree of speed that rivaled a bullet, ordinary paper was no match for the Silence Glaive. The blade cut through the barrage and continued on its way as a rain of paper fell to either side. Already at the extreme edge of her reach, Saturn made a clumsy sort of half-jump forwards, gritting her teeth as she fought momentum to bring the Glaive back around for another slice.

Someone using an ordinary polearm probably would have missed, but the Silence Glaive was about as far from 'ordinary' as it was possible to get. Responding to its little mistress' commands, the short, scythelike head flipped over in midswing and flew forwards with an almost banshee-like howl. The green substance of the creature split cleanly as the impossibly sharp blade passed through it, a black and silver blur which left two halves and a bit of arm to fall separately to the roof.

Neither Venus nor Saturn were prepared to see the green, half-alive stuff suddenly wither up, turn first blue, then purple, and finally black, and crumble away to dust. Even the other creature stopped and stared as its comrade was consumed—which proved to be a mistake, as a crackling thunderbolt took it from behind, setting off some sort of chain reaction in its shoulders which obliterated the thing in a reddish series of explosions.

"It's going!" Luna shouted, and they all looked up to see the towering spires of the nexus losing their shape as the energy which had powered the construct dissipated. In seconds, it was gone, and a huge mass of green broke away, falling towards the streets below and breaking up into nothingness long before it hit.

"We did it," Neptune said wearily.

"Hoo-ray for our side," Uranus groaned. "I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Are you all right?" Luna asked quickly.

"We're fine, Luna," Neptune replied. "Just very, very tired."

"I've got some coffee back at my place that'll wake you up again," Jupiter promised. "And since the storm's gone, I can head back now and have it ready by the time the rest of you get there."

"Sounds like a plan," Uranus agreed. "I prefer mine with sugar and cream."

"Black, here," Neptune said. "And make it strong, would you?"

"Sure thing. What about you, Mercury?"

The only answer was the slush-muffled sound of Mercury's body collapsing on the roof.

***MILLENNIALS***

Janus read the report a third time.

"They successfully jammed the nexus' energy flow with only three individuals, destroyed the test units, and collapsed the entire structure. In less than ten minutes." The male voice listed off the points of the report in a flat, angry tone.

"Yes, my Prince," Archon replied.

"Three weeks of work to produce, ten minutes to destroy." Janus steepled its fingers and looked at Archon through the floating words. "And we didn't get any positive identification on whoever was responsible for it?"

"No, my Prince. The plan called for our enemies to enter the main structure; all the watcher's monitoring sensors were concentrated there, with nothing left to survey the exterior."

"I see." There was a long silence. Finally, Janus nodded, sighing. "Very well. A design flaw we can easily correct; have the watcher expand its surveillance perimeter at the remaining test sites by... three hundred percent."

"The watcher will require at least another week of effort to achieve that much of an increase," Archon said mildly.

"The traps are useless if they gain us no useful information," Janus said. "And besides, that gives you another week in which to produce a few more second- generation units to man the test sites. Are the prototypes operating as expected?"

"Yes, your Highness. Recycling the first-generation units worked better than I had anticipated, most likely because of the energy they had collected. We should have a sufficient force to place one second-grade unit at each test site, and still maintain a small force here."

"Good. I was getting tired of seeing these shambling mounds of fungus everywhere I went." Janus' female voice had taken over. "Do you think it might be possible to go a step further and produce a third-generation unit?"

"Perhaps, but that would be the limit of the materials. There is only so much we can do without a stable power source." Archon looked up at the lights in the throne room, which were considerably brighter now than they had been just a day before. "At least the nexus was not a total loss; it gave us enough reserve power to operate the atmospheric systems for the next few months, and it still produced quite an impressive storm."

"That it did." Janus breathed in the air, savoring the fact that the dry staleness which had permeated it since their return was gone now. "The abundance of energy at the supernexus seems to enhance the performance of the design considerably. That bodes well for our other nexi, does it not?"

"Even if they are all destroyed as soon after activation as the first," Archon said, calculating mystical variables, "I expect we will receive enough power to approach perhaps fifty percent of the city's normal capacity. That in itself would keep us going for the next year, but if we are fortunate enough to reach _sixty_ percent, the mana reactors could be triggered."

"And with the reactors operational," Janus finished, "the Rise will become reality. Excellent, Archon. Excellent." The blended face broke into a smile—one half stunningly handsome, the other stunningly beautiful. Taken together, they were frightening. "Send word to prepare for a feast, Archon. We feel like celebrating our recent good fortune."

"As you wish."

"And tell the Council of Lords that there will be a meeting afterwards. I believe it's high time we stopped laying low and got down to some serious business."

***SAILOR SAYS***

_(Makoto and Rei are sitting on high stools behind a counter, with two cups of hot chocolate in front of them.)_

**Makoto**: How could that guy _not_ have known who Mercury was?

**Rei**: You read the script, didn't you? He got hit in the head. Usagi's living proof of what that can do to a person.

**Usagi** _(leaning in from the right)_: I heard that.

**Rei**: You were supposed to.

_(A door bursts open somewhere off-camera, and a snow-covered Ryo rushes in from the left.)_

**Ryo** _(gasping for breath)_: I got here as fast as I could. Where's Ami? Is she alright?

**Makoto** _(getting to her feet)_: What are you doing here? You're not supposed to come back until at least the next episode!

**Ryo**: Do you think I CARE about continuity right now? Tell me where Ami is, or I'll... I'll... um... I'll see something really unpleasant and not warn you about it! _(thinks to himself: *As if THAT wasn't the lamest threat in history. I really need to learn telekinesis or something.*) _

**Usagi**: Well, since you asked SO nicely... come on, Romeo. _(she leads him off- camera, leaning back in briefly)_ And you two, get on with the moral already.

**Makoto**: What _is_ the moral, anyway?

**Rei**: I personally think it has something to do with the way the world throws all kinds of signals at you when something important happens, and how most people can be totally oblivious to what it's trying to tell them. That guy with the head injury is an example; Ami-chan, Michiru, and Haruka were examples of people who paid attention and were able to do something besides standing around and watching the fireworks.

**Makoto**: Not bad. More hot chocolate?

**Rei**: Thanks. Got any marshmallows?

_(Fade to black) _

27/04/00 (Revised as of 15/08/02)

Wow. This is one of the longer episodes, and yet it took me the least amount of time to write. I've found my muse, and it's either serious sleep deprivation, too many hours of television, or WATCHING THOSE THREE EPISODES OF GUNDAM WING THIS PAST MONDAY!

Ahem. A serious injection of fresh story material always does this sort of thing to me.

Next up:  
-A search for answers leads to a field trip which is quite literally out of this world; and  
-February looms on the horizon (at last!)

And maybe one or two other things I'm still toying with.


	7. Chapter 7

The feast was over, the tables cleared. Now, the Lords of Atlantis sat or stood about the grand chamber, some talking, others drinking, and a few remaining silent, all of them waiting for the arrival of their master and mistress, when the meeting would begin.

There was a curious feeling in the room that had only a little to do with the wine, a sense of rightness, of things being once again as they were meant to be.

Once, these assembled men and women, the heads of the most powerful and influential families of Atlantis, would have met to decide the fates of entire nations. They, like their ancestors before them, were the ruling class of the mightiest empire history had ever known, the most brilliantly shining jewel in the crown of human achievement. Their estates had covered the Earth and many other worlds while their fleets patrolled sea and sky and space, and their people had prospered upon the wealth and achievement of a hundred civilizations, all bound together under one rule. Theirs.

And then it had all been lost. The estates were overrun and the mighty fleets burned, as the people divided and fell upon one another in the chaos of a war that had reshaped the world. When it was over, the might of the empire had been broken, its holdings seized by rebels and self-proclaimed rulers or lost to the void. Atlantis itself, ancient heart of the empire, had been all but wiped from the face of the Earth; only a select few of its citizens, the best and the brightest, had been saved from the long night—and that sanctuary had been a prison, cut off from everything they were meant to rule.

Ten millennia of power, destroyed in the space of a year. Two thousand years of exile, while the homeworld remained in the grip of superstition, barbarism, and ignorance.

All because of one woman.

This was only the second meeting of the Lords since their return, and for many, it was a sign that things were at last beginning to return to the way they should be. The first meeting, grim and somber, held in darkened chambers where the air hung heavy with the dust of ages, had been an endless list of damage, losses, and outlines for repair. No more. The chambers were rich with light and energy, the scars of the ancient disaster erased, their former majesty restored. Much yet remained to be done before Atlantis was once again as it had been and should be, as they remembered it, but so too had much of the great city been restored; it was high time that the restoration of the empire also begin.

The massive double doors at the far end of the grand chamber opened on soundless hinges. Nine figures entered, the steady fall of heavy boots drawing the attention of the assembled Lords.

The two men in the lead were members of the Imperial Guard, as would be the two at the end of the small procession. Long silver robes, trimmed in the gold of the Imperial Throne, extended from the collar of the guards' expressionless helmets; in their right hands, each guard held a deadly spear-like weapon known as a firelance in a gauntleted grip of steel. They walked in step, were of the same height, and beneath the concealing robes, wore grey uniforms of a light but marvelously strong fabric which would protect them nearly as well as metal armor but still allow them a full range of movement. The guards were not, as some rumors suggested, all clones or members of the same carefully maintained bloodline—beneath their smoked-glass visors, each had a different face-but no one saw the face of an Imperial Guardsman while he was on duty; they saw only their own faces, cast back in distorted reflections by the flat, featureless visors.

Behind the guards came the richly robed, dark-eyed Archon, master archmage of Atlantis and chief advisor to the throne. It was difficult to tell whether Archon was walking on the crystalline floor or on a thin layer of empty air as he approached, the end of his sigil-inscribed robes flapping loosely as he moved, but no one cared to ask. Even among the Lords, who represented the greatest concentration of magical power in a people famous for their mastery of spells, Archon commanded great respect and even fear. The jagged white lines in his hair and beard were as striking as the thunderbolts his hands could conjure, his black, alien eyes more chilling than the deepest void of space.

After Archon came Janus, the Crowned Prince of Atlantis, the Lord of the Lords, and the future Emperor; with him, as ever, came Jenna, Imperial Princess, High Lady of the City, his twin sister. The Lords bowed, most out of genuine respect, some out of actual friendship, but none could deny a faint sense of unease at the unmistakable, unnatural division of the figure's features. No matter how many times one saw the gradually shifting blend of the two siblings, one never grew used to it. As much as Janus was Atlantis' hope for the future, he—they—were also the living reminder of its shame and defeat, for the treachery that had shattered the empire had also worked this disturbing fusion upon the imperial siblings, and twenty centuries of effort had failed to find a means of reversing it.

To Janus' right, there walked a tall young man with long, wild hair of a fiery red hue, held back from his face by a circlet of some silvery metal. There was something distinctly devious about his features, quick intelligence and sharp cunning in a combination which did not encourage trust, and this was enforced by the angry scar cutting across his face, beginning above the left eye and crossing the bridge of the nose to end on the opposite cheek. Whatever weapon had made the wound had just missed damaging his eyes, dark orbs which burned with the same cunning reflected on his face. He wore loose-fitting brown pants, the ends tucked behind the tops of sturdy boots and a wide black belt, and a sleeveless black vest. Three silver chains hung along the front of the vest, crisscrossing the man's trim, muscular chest, and silver studs adorned the knuckles of the fingerless gloves on his hands.

The being walking to Janus' left was virtually the exact opposite of her counterpart. Slender and graceful, she moved without any of the scarred man's obvious tension, her feet gliding across the floor in a manner even Archon's magic could have taken lessons from. Her face was exquisitely beautiful and appeared totally open, gentle and trusting, framed by long, blue-black hair. Gold and silver flashed at her ears, her throat, and here and there like tiny stars in the fall of her night-dark hair; her eyes were dark, liquid pools without bottoms. Her mask of gentle innocence was betrayed by the slow, provocative sway of her hips as she moved, by the shift and rustle of her dress, a silken, midnight-blue dream of form-fitting opaque folds, a skirt which somehow billowed outwards and clung to shapely legs all at once, and loosely flowing veils which, contrary to their name, hid nothing at all. Fashion designers would have killed for that dress, and models would have killed for the body beneath it; any Puritans in the audience would have _been_ killed just by looking at her.

Behind Janus, the scarred fighting man, and the sultry creature that looked just barely old enough to be considered a woman, there rose a mountainous shape of dark metal. Taller than the rest of the party by a head or more and nearly as broad as two of the guards, the mighty figure strode in slow, menacing silence, its glossy black armor making no sound except when one of the huge feet struck the floor. Strange bands of metal crisscrossed the armored body, running along shoulders and arms, torso and legs, with faint flickers of energy dancing beneath them, as if the armor were about to burst apart with a flood of energy, and the bands were the only things holding it together. The warrior bore no visible weapon, but the lack of armament hardly seemed a problem. Its face—if it possessed one—was unseen within the shadowy helm, but as with its lack of weapons, this deficiency did not impair the being in the slightest.

One thing all three figures had in common was a silver emblem, a series of seven rings, one inside the other, all the rings broken and connected to each other at regular intervals. The shape adorned the scarred man's chest in the form of a large tattoo; it gleamed on the beautiful woman's forehead, held in place by strings of tiny, winking jewels; it was fused directly into the menacing helm of the towering warrior.

And it was built directly into the floor upon which they and the others now stood.

As Janus strode to the gleaming, golden throne at the far end of the chamber, the Lords moved to stand over those seven rings. The largest circle held forty-nine men and women, while the one inside it held forty-two; each ring had seven fewer people standing over it until the smallest and innermost, which had only six, but sufficient space for one more. The other Lords glanced curiously at the empty space, as if someone were supposed to stand there, but remained silent for the moment.

While their master seated himself, the four guards took up their posts at the corners of the elevated section of floor upon which the throne stood. The scarred man stood to the left of the massive throne, the silent warrior to right; the woman settled herself on the wide right armrest, taking a posture which exposed a great deal of leg through slits in her skirt. Archon remained at the center of the chamber, within the innermost ring, his arms folded within the long sleeves of his robe.

"The Council of Lords of Atlantis is convened," Archon intoned solemnly. To anyone who might have been watching, it was immediately apparent that, with the possible exceptions of the faceless guards and the black knight, he was the oldest person in the room; of the just under two hundred men and women gathered around him, none could have been a day over thirty, and more than a few appeared not to have even reached twenty yet. Archon, by contrast, looked to be well on his way to fifty—and was in fact centuries older.

"Atlantis shall rise," two hundred voices replied.

"My Lords," Janus said, the male voice speaking in rich, clear tones, "less than a month has passed since our return to this world. In that time, a great deal has happened, and we have learned a number of things. In light of certain of our discoveries, and the impact they may have on our greater efforts to begin the Rise, I have decided to have Archon explain the current situation to you all. Archon."

Archon bowed his head. "As you will, my lord." With a gesture, Archon caused the lights of the vast, circular chamber to dim. In the air above the assembled Lords, an image of light appeared, a city built on a multitude of interconnected platforms. The spaces between those platforms was a perfect match for the symbol upon the floor.

"As you are already aware," Archon began, "the condition of the city upon our return was far worse than we had first anticipated. Protective and preservation spells throughout the city had inexplicably failed, leaving many buildings open to destruction by the elements. We have since learned that this city-wide failure of magic was not due to any inherent weakness in the spells, but to a shift in the availability of mana. Where Atlantis was once located above the largest focal point of the Earth's energy fields, it now sits in area virtually dead to magic."

"How long ago did the shift occur?" The speaking Lord was a tall, blue- haired youth. He wore a mantle which matched his blue-green eyes, and was one of the six Lords who stood in the innermost circle.

"By our best estimates, Lord Triton, it was not one shift, but a series of them. The first appears to have occurred perhaps half a century after the Fall; the most recent took place less than a year past. We are still trying to determine the nature of the shifts, but their final result is this." Archon gestured, and the image of the city was replaced by a glowing, turning image of the Earth. There was a faint murmur amongst the Lords as they got their first look at the world in over two thousand years. Lines of light appeared on the surface of the globe, turning and twisting randomly across the surface; a huge number of them met on the extreme eastern edge of the largest continent. "Whether by chance or by design, a city known to the people of this age as 'Tokyo' sits atop the new supernexus."

"Then the city must be taken," a slender woman in the inner circle said. She stood three places to the left of Lord Triton and wore a pale silver mantle which went rather well with her long white hair and sky-blue eyes.

"Lady Istar is correct," a third Lord said from Triton's right. This Lord was a tall, powerfully-built man with dusty blond hair and iron grey eyes, whose brown mantle did not hide his broad shoulders and thick chest. "I have checked regularly on our forces, Archon, so I know we possess sufficient units to mount a campaign against any one city. When does the attack begin?"

"It began the same night we returned," Archon replied. "It has since been called off." The Lords erupted into a chorus of surprised protests.

"Calm yourselves, my Lords." Magic enhanced Janus' level call for silence so that all in the room could hear it.

"My Prince," the muscular Lord protested, "what is going on? Why..."

Janus raised a hand. "Archon will explain everything, Lord Stone. All I ask is that you give him time to finish his report."

Stone bowed mutely, and Archon resumed. "Twelve first-generation units were dispatched to the target city. With the exception of the watcher unit and one other, all were collectors with orders to establish the stable sources of power we require to bring about the Rise. Two of those units were destroyed within the first twenty-four hours of the operation, and a third only a few days later. At that time, our Prince decided upon a new plan of action."

The Lords listened in silence as Archon described the traps, some nodding in agreement. There were more startled outbursts when he related the relative ease with which their unseen enemy had apparently destroyed the mana nexus.

"That, my Lords, is where we now stand," Archon finished. "Seven trap sites remain in operation, and each has been supplied with a second-generation unit to back up the existing forces already in place. As each trap is sprung, the watcher will further alter the remaining ones to better meet the capabilities of our opponents, but considering the speed with which the previous units were destroyed, I expect it will take a great deal more to defeat this enemy."

"Is Lord Draco's absence connected to these events?" This was one of the younger Lords, another member of the innermost circle despite the fact that he was shorter than any of the other five. Black-haired, dark-eyed, and wearing a black mantle, the boyish Lord stood to the left of the empty space.

Upon the throne, Janus smiled. "No, Lord Nyx. Lord Draco was dispatched on a recon mission several weeks back, and has been out of contact since his departure. He will return in a few days." Janus chuckled, a curious blend of masculine and feminine laughter. "Though the current situation has nothing to do with his absence, I would expect Lord Draco will take steps to remedy that as soon as he has made his report." Knowing their absent comrade as they did, a few of the other Lords laughed briefly.

"At any rate," the imperial figure said, switching into Jenna's soft voice, "you are all now aware of our situation. The watcher unit has been busy collecting all available information on the current state of the world, which comes to a total far larger than we could hope to relate here. All its files will be made available on request for those of you who wish to study them. And we do encourage that," a suddenly dual voice emphasized, brother and sister speaking as one. "The global shift of mana energy is but one of the changes that have taken place since our entrapment, and it may be the least of those changes. It would do us all good to understand how they may affect the Rise." Janus looked as if one or both of its sides were about to say something else, but paused, hearing a soft chime only those grouped about the throne could detect. "And now, I must ask that you return to your efforts, my Lords. Though we have secured some energy, we are still far from total success. After you have studied our new records, ideas on how to turn the information to our advantage should be submitted to Archon. You will be advised of any further developments as they occur. Atlantis shall rise."

"The Lords shall rule," came the reply. The various Lords began to exit the chamber, some in silence, others speaking in small groups.

"One of those 'further developments' you mentioned?" a soft, amused voice whispered to Janus' right.

"Yes. Draco has returned ahead of schedule." Out of the corner of the female eye, Janus saw its scarred advisor frown darkly.

"I don't like this. Draco being late is one thing, especially since he stops to fight something almost every time he turns around. But for him to return early..."

"Cestus," the beautiful woman said, sighing, "don't you _ever_ lighten up? In all my life, I've never met anyone who worries as much as you do."

"In all your life," the scarred man repeated, sneering. "How many years would that be today, Lillith? Sixteen, seventeen? What will it be tomorrow? Twenty-two? Twelve, perhaps?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," she said distantly, turning away from him with a faintly musical tinkle echoing from her ornate earrings. Cestus made a sound of disgust.

"Quiet," Janus ordered tersely. "Both of you."

An armored figure had just entered the hall. It was taller and broader than the guards, less so than the silent knight standing beside the throne. The armor it wore was a combination of fiery red and bright gold, plain white and smoky black, the final effect being that the figure appeared to be aflame as it walked. The armor was worked so that it seemed made of scales, and a huge, horned, reptilian face glared out at the world from the breastplate, with clawed highlights adorning the bracers at wrist and ankle. A second dragon's head rested atop the clawlike shoulder guards, ruby-bright eyes flashing from its sides and finely wrought horns rising in a crowning crest as the fanged mouth snarled silently at the world. A long cloak—black on the outside, red on the inside—trailed behind the warrior as he approached, leaving a broad-bladed shortsword visible on his left hip, a longer sword sheathed on his right; both weapons and their scabbards were worked in gold and jewels.

The magnificent warrior strode up to the base of the dais, sank to one knee, and saluted with one fist over his heart. "My Prince, my Princess. As ordered, I have returned."

"Rise, Lord Draco, and present your report."

"Good news for a change, my Prince. Despite the state of affairs in the city on our return, the holding spells remained intact. Only one had been broken for any length of time, and it was restored almost immediately thereafter."

"Which one?" Janus asked quickly.

"The Seal of Mer, my Prince. I cannot be sure what happened, but it was some time ago, and the damage appears to have been contained. Whatever the case, the seal is as strong now as it ever was."

Janus let out a relieved breath. "Good, good. I was half-afraid that... well, never mind. Well done, Lord Draco."

"I live but to serve, my Prince, my Princess. Will you require anything further of me?"

Janus thought for a moment. "Not at the moment, Draco, however... I would suggest that, after you've rested, you review the information gathered by the watcher these last few weeks. I think you may find it interesting."

It was difficult to tell since his face was hidden, but Draco appeared intrigued. "As you say, my Prince." He saluted again and withdrew.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Welcome back, everyone," the principal said. "I'm glad to see you managed to—ahem—'weather' yesterday's little storm without too much trouble."

A lot of the students groaned good-naturedly. Principal Hashido had a tendency to crack wise when he was put in front of a microphone, but since he was widely accepted to be the best high school principal in the district, they let him get away with it. Besides, sometimes he was actually funny.

"Still, in light of the storm, there have been some problems reported in the last couple of hours. Mostly, it's because of all the runoff from the melted snow—leaks in some ceilings, no back pressure in some washrooms, too _much_ pressure in others, that sort of thing. The janitors are working to get things under control, but I thought it'd be more sporting if you'd been warned ahead of time. So if you start hearing strange noises coming from the walls, feel free to step out into the hallway until they pass—unless you're near the music room, of course. I understand Kakura-sensei will be putting the brass band through their paces again today." A few of the students laughed. "And speaking of high notes," Hashido went on, "we've come to the last part of this assembly..."

A well-nigh universal cheer went up. Hashido cleared his throat. Twice.

"Yes, I know, you can't _wait_ to get to class..."—there was a dead silence here—"...so I'll just get this over with. The second-year class is getting a new student today, a mister Urawa Ryo, who some of you may remember from..."

"WELCOME BACK, RYO-KUN!" a pair of loud, female voices shouted from somewhere in the middle of the crowd, evoking a fair bit of laughter. At the front of the gym, Ryo sighed, rolled his eyes and waved politely.

"Ah yes," Hashido said. "I understand you've met Usagi-chan and Mina-chan before, correct?" Ryo shrugged, and Hashido nodded somberly. "My condolences," he added, speaking into the microphone.

"HEY!"

***MILLENNIALS***

Usagi waited at the gym exit after most of the other students had left. When the teachers started to come out, she spared a deadly glance for Principal Hashido and then turned her attention to her real target. "Haruna-sensei," she said, "could I talk to you for a minute?"

"It'll have to be while we walk," Haruna said, starting down the hall. "And if this is about the paper I assigned last week..."

"It's not," Usagi promised, waiting until they were out of earshot. "I thought you should know that Ami-chan and Mako-chan aren't going to be in today. Maybe not tomorrow, either."

"Are they sick?"

"Ami is. Mako-chan's staying home to look after her, just in case."

"It's _that_ serious?" Haruna asked, a little worried. "What has she got?"

"We're not really sure," Usagi admitted. "She sort of collapsed a little before lunch yesterday, and she's been running a fever since then. Mako-chan called Ami's mother in to have a look, and she said that whatever it is should pass in a day or so. Mizuno-san didn't really say what the problem was, but I think she thought it was an allergic reaction to something. The rest of us are heading over to Makoto's place after school to see how Ami's doing, so Minako and I are picking up any homework either of them might have."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Going over, I mean," Haruna added, aware of how her question might sound. "You really can't afford to get sick right now."

"Mizuno-san said that since Mako-chan wasn't sick, she didn't think whatever Ami has is catching, so it wouldn't be a problem if we visited." *Besides,* Usagi added silently, *we _know_ it isn't a virus or anything like that. That's about _all_ we know, but still...*

"All right," Haruna agreed. "I know how Ami likes to keep ahead of the class, so I'll put together an outline of everything we'll be covering in history and math for the next week or so, and I'll have a talk with her other teachers at lunch and see if they can give you the same."

"Thanks, sensei. I appreciate it. So will Ami-chan."

Haruna smiled. "Have that report in tomorrow and we'll call it even."

Usagi groaned.

***MILLENNIALS***

It was lunchtime.

In the cafeteria, Usagi and Minako had claimed the table they occasionally shared with Ami and Makoto—when Ami wasn't busy in the library or computer room, that is, and when neither Minako nor Makoto was stalk... ahem, introducing herself to the object of her latest crush. Naru and Umino sometimes joined them, but more often found a quiet spot somewhere out of the way, and today was evidently one of those days. Usagi recalled hearing Umino mention something about a new book on the life cycle of lower-order annelids—whatever those were—and silently wished Naru the patience, strength, and wisdom she would need in order to not strangle her boyfriend.

Minako was up at the counter, in the middle of a heated and only half-understood argument with one of the cafeteria ladies, with most of the cafeteria looking on in breathless awe. Since Minako had mentioned 'needing dough' and about a half-dozen other food-and-money-related misquotes, the audience assumed she was upset about the increased price of the cafeteria's cookies.

Oblivious to the proceedings, Usagi was just about to take a bite out of her sandwich when a shadow moved between her and the window.

"Mind if I join you, Usagi-chan?" the shadow asked.

"Hey, Ryo-kun. Go ahead and pull up a seat." Suspecting that a conversation was in the works, Usagi took a smaller bite of sandwich than she had originally planned. "Enjoying your first day back?"

"Aside from this morning's little... greeting? More or less, yes."

"Spoilsport." They both looked up as a round of cheering and applause went up from near the counter, where a heavily-breathing Minako had apparently won the argument. Smiling as she bowed to the onlookers, Minako collected three cookies and returned to her seat, leaving a tired wreck of a woman at the cash register.

"Victory," Minako said, dropping into the chair opposite Usagi and flashing a smile. "Can you believe they actually thought they could get away with that?"

"The horror," Usagi murmured.

Ryo cleared his throat, and Minako looked at him. "Hi, Ryo-kun. Cookie? They're chocolate chip, today and Thursday."

"Uh, thanks." Ryo took the cookie, but didn't eat it. "Look, I've been meaning to talk to you two since first period ended. Why is Ami laying on Mako-chan's living room couch looking like she's about to be sick?"

Minako glowered suspiciously. "Have you been spying on them?"

"In a manner of speaking," Ryo said dryly, "yes." He tapped his forehead to emphasize the point.

"Oh. Right. I forgot about that." Another dark look crossed her face. "Have you ever spied on _me?_"

"Would I do something like that?" Ryo asked, smiling innocently. Minako gave him an answering look that said if he had, Ami was going to have to look for a new boyfriend. Ryo's smile slipped.

Usagi looked around cautiously. "There was a bit of trouble yesterday," she began. "More of those green things showed up downtown. They'd turned a building into some kind of device, which was responsible for the storm, and Mercury collapsed when she, Neptune, and Uranus shut the thing down."

"Is she all right?" Ryo asked quickly.

"Luna said she'd need a few days of rest, but that she'd be back to normal afterwards. In the meantime, though, she's going to be pretty sick. That's why Mako-chan stayed home. We're heading over to check on Ami after school; you're welcome to join us."

Although he didn't visibly relax, Ryo smiled gratefully, and handed the cookie over to Usagi. She took a bite, then made a face. "That's the worst chocolate chip cookie I've ever tasted."

"A steady diet of what Mako-chan and your mother cook has spoiled you," Ryo said. "Cafeteria food is never what you'd call gourmet, and it's certainly not up to their level."

"That's still no excuse. Pardon me for a minute, will you?" Usagi got up and headed for the counter to give the cafeteria workers a piece of her mind.

The lady at the register never knew what hit her.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ami had reached a decision.

It was not a choice she made lightly, though her head certainly felt light at the moment, nor was it one made in haste. Quite the contrary; she'd had several hours of enforced bedrest—couchrest?—to think things over. Somewhere in her examination of all of the facts and the subsequent analysis of the examination, it had occurred to Ami that her final decision was not merely the right choice, but the only choice, the obvious choice—so blindingly obvious, in fact, so immediately apparent that she couldn't imagine why she hadn't thought of it before.

Oh well. The important thing was that she had seen her way through the problem calmly, rationally, and patiently. All logical possibilities had been given equal consideration, all leaps of intuition carefully backed up with justifying facts, and all the facts confirmed beyond any doubt. Ami had her answer to the current situation, and it was simple:

Makoto had to die.

That, her fever-fogged brain rationalized, would solve everything quite nicely. Once Makoto was out of the picture, she'd stop checking Ami's temperature, quit making her drink glasses of juice and heated broth, wouldn't keep tucking the blankets up and telling her not to do anything to tire herself out; essentially, Ami would be left to die in peace, rather than this eternal-seeming torture. Asking Makoto to leave her alone hadn't worked, and the odds of her stopping of her own free will were so incredibly small as to be almost nil, so that left only one solution.

It was her own fault, really. Ami held no malice towards her friend and current roommate, despite the considerable and steadily building list of Makoto's shortcomings, but if the girl refused to acknowledge the simple, logical truth and leave Ami alone, she would pay for it.

*As soon as I remember how to stand up,* Ami thought. *And walk. And once I've figured out a way to kill her that won't bring my lunch back up. Ulp.*

As soon as that thought went through her mind, Ami felt lunch start to move again. The memory of how to walk—how to _run,_ in fact—came back to her in a green flash of nausea; a set of precise orders on what to do next accompanied the revelation, as did an extremely graphic image of what would happen if she didn't hurry.

She hurried.

Somewhere in the middle of bringing up what felt like everything she'd ever eaten, Ami noticed a gentle hand patting her back, heard a soft, angelic voice murmuring half-heard words of sympathy and encouragement. The unhesitating support was so touching that she could have cried—but she was too busy.

An eternity later, when there was finally nothing left to come up, Ami reached up for the flush handle in a slow, rather mechanical fashion—the fashion of a mechanism badly in need of a tune-up. The mate to that gentle hand beat her to it, and Ami, feeling another rush of boundless gratitude, turned and buried her face in the nearest available shoulder.

"Mako-chan," she whispered tearfully, the rawness of her throat making the words difficult, "you're my only friend." *Not like the rest of those traitors, who go off to school and leave me here to suffer. Not like that smug, heartless, inhuman beast Ryo, who _says_ he loves me and then disappears for weeks at a time without so much as a phonecall to tell whether or not I'm even ALIVE.*

Ami tried to get up, but her legs felt like the muscles had liquefied, like her knees had been fused to the tiled floor. Again, the hands came to her rescue, helping her stand and walk—stagger—to the sink to clean her face and get a glass of water to wash that taste out of her mouth. That awful, burning, acidic vile bitterhothalfdigested... oh god.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ami looked around carefully. The precise, geometric landscape of the realm greeted her gaze in every direction, everything laid out on a grid of black and white squares around the central keep. The knights of the realm, arrayed on horseback, dipped their pennant-strewn lances in salute as her eyes passed; the bishops and generals lowered their gazes deferentially, respecting her proven strategic ability far more than any inherited right of command; even the lowly foot soldiers paused in their ceaseless drilling to salute smartly, with a ready willingness to obey that bordered on reverence.

All appeared to be as it should, yet she knew the seeming peace was a false one. The hated enemy, the dread menace, the Black Army, was on the move once again, pushing all resistance before them and leaving destruction in their wake; it fell to her, as it had many times in the past and would again in the future, to rally the force which would turn back their advance. No airy ballrooms or sparkling gardens for this queen, no lacy dresses or glowing jewels. Her gowns were of steel, her crown a battle-scarred helmet; her only ball was the grand dance of move and ploy and countermove, her only garden, the garden of war.

Her only love, a participant of that dance, a white bloom in that deadly, thorn-riddled garden where all was black despair and red fury.

Peerless in battle but gentle as a soft summer wind, a mind that rivaled her own and yet remained truer than the most faithful hunting hound, wise beyond his years and with courage enough for ten men, the White Knight rode at the head of her armies in every battle. He bore her standard into the field, carried her voice to the warriors, held her heart in his hand. It was said that young maidens across the land wept at the memory of his deep, reflective eyes and calm, serious face—wept once for the beauty of the man, whom any one of them would have traded her soul to have as her own, and then again for the pain mirrored in those eyes, the enduring knowledge that the one he truly loved was forever denied to him.

"Let our queen marry," the people cried. "Let her have a king at last."

"Not while there is still danger to the land," she always replied. "Not until the Black Army is forever defeated can I set down weapons of war."

"Let us take up the burden in your place," her allies said. "The armies of red and gold, of green and silver, will hold back the darkness. Let the warriors of the Blue Queen rejoice with their loved ones, as the land shares in the happiness of its queen."

"You need me," she always reminded them. "I will not abandon you."

*Let me be free,* her heart whispered.

*I have a duty,* she whispered back. *It must be followed.*

Duty pulled her one way, desire, another; love pulled equally alongside each.

Stalemate.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Ryo."

Makoto sighed, removed the cotton cloth, and carefully laid the back of her hand against Ami's forehead. Feeling the dull heat beyond the dry flesh, she replaced the original cloth with a fresh one, cool and damp. Ami stirred slightly, making a wordless, mewling noise in the back of her throat. Again, Makoto sighed.

Of the last twenty-four hours, Ami had been semiconscious or totally unconscious for perhaps fourteen. Almost none of that had been sleep—not the restful kind, anyway, not with that fever—and much of the rest of the time, she was getting sick.

Makoto did not like problems she couldn't solve, and she was not emotionally constructed to handle waiting or reflection very well. Hers was a competitive nature, sometimes—frequently—to the point of aggression; her head knew that 'losing' was different from 'not winning' or 'not winning just yet,' but somebody had apparently neglected to pass that on to the rest of her. Long used to being physically strong almost to point of invincibility, at least among mere mortals, Makoto had little concept of being physically helpless. But when she was confronted by a problem that main strength—strength of body or strength of will, it was all the same in the end—couldn't solve, then she got an idea of what the feeling was like.

She didn't like it. Helplessness made her frustrated, and frustration made her angry. And when she got angry, the fights started.

Right now, Makoto felt helpless, _and_ frustrated, _and_ angry. And more than anything, she felt scared.

"Come on, Ami," she said softly, taking her friend's hand.

***MILLENNIALS***

Setsuna felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin.

Ikuko hadn't lied about the store; it was quite close, quite small, and aside from the two of them, its cashier, and a handful of intermittent customers, quite empty. The fact that the city's youth were still in school, and most of its adults still at work, meant that the streets and sidewalks were almost—but not entirely—empty while they walked to the store.

Even so, just getting beyond the front yard was something of a victory for Setsuna. It hadn't helped that some maniac with a heavy foot on the gas had started squealing their tires the moment she started to step past the gate. Or that, halfway down the block, the biggest dog she could remember seeing got up and started barking at them through a gate that suddenly seemed much too low and flimsy and not nearly locked enough. Or that the sky, which until about ten seconds ago had been bright and clear, suddenly looked like it was gearing up for another snowstorm. Or that...

Setsuna shook her head, banishing the imagined worries. Ikuko was right; she'd been cooped up inside—first at the hospital, then at the Tsukino home—for too long. She knew she was going to have enough of a fight keeping her fear of crowds under rein; she didn't need to pile a case of agoraphobia on top of it.

She looked up from the half-full basket she carried; apparently, this place was too small to rate actual shopping carts. "What else did we need?"

"Another jar of peanut butter, two cartons of milk, and of course, a box or two of that lemon tea you liked so much," Ikuko said, shifting her own basket. "I'll get the rest if you get the milk."

"Freezer?" Setsuna asked. Like almost everything else, shopping was a new experience for her. Setsuna found that she was rather enjoying it, although a part of her felt a little guilty that she was living on someone else's generosity.

Ikuko smiled. "See how easy it is?"

"Yes. A couple more trips like this, and I'll be ready for the mall." Setsuna tried to laugh, but it came out a little shaky, and Ikuko noticed easily.

"Don't push yourself too hard, dear. One thing at a time."

Setsuna nodded and went in search of the milk. She was on her way back from the freezer section at the rear of the store when it occurred to her that she had crossed the length of the place on her own without once stopping to worry about running into someone. And she realized that there were three or four people besides Ikuko that she might have run into—total strangers.

*I _knew_ they were there,* she realized, *and it didn't bother me.* A tiny smile of triumph worked its way onto her lips. *Maybe I'm doing better than I thought.*

A very Minako-esque cry of victory formed in her mind. *Malls of the world, beware!*

***MILLENNIALS***

The others had decided it would be best to arrive at Makoto's place in a group, so they were gathering at Usagi's to drop off their books and other unnecessary weight, and to pick up Setsuna; ChibiUsa was getting a lift with the Outers. It would have been very nice to think that all this organization was out of concern for Ami, but in reality, there was some serious Senshi business that needed to be discussed where everyone could hear it, and soon—and this afterschool visit was as good a time as any.

It was a simple plan, a good plan—as Minako had put it, the plan gave 'something to everyone for double or nothing'—and of course, since it was Usagi's idea in the first place, everyone seemed to be conspiring against her to ruin it.

The first indication of trouble had arisen the night before, when she'd called to tell the Outers to be there, and received a vague reply of 'we'll stop by if we have the time,' from Haruka. At first, Usagi had figured Haruka was just being difficult to tease her, but in light of later events, she was strongly inclined to reconsider.

Item Two on the Let's Ruin Usagi's Idea list was when Luna failed to appear during the entire walk home, even though Artemis appeared on schedule, hopping up to his favorite perch on Minako's shoulders.

Something had been not quite right ever since the battle at the skyscraper. Luna, it seemed, wanted to forget that yesterday had ever happened, to imagine that the glitch in Ami's computer and the huge moss-thing were all figments of shared imagination. Despite the impact of the previous day, Luna absolutely refused to talk to Usagi about it, and had raised the most astonishing ruckus of protest when she found out about the meeting. Usagi wasn't sure what half of the words Luna had thrown at her meant, but if the other half were anything to go by, she was better off not knowing. Curiously, some of the untranslatables sounded familiar, in that half-remembered fashion which suggested to Usagi that the words and phrases were of Moon Kingdom origin.

Usagi didn't know which part shocked her more: the fact that such words even existed during what was supposed to have been the highest point of human culture; the fact that Luna seemed to know them backwards and forwards; or the fact that she herself could recognize, _from prior experience,_ a mass of words and expressions that princesses aren't supposed to know. Usagi suspected that Luna's uncharacteristic refusal to discuss things she ordinarily wouldn't have shut up about—to say nothing of her sudden fit of lunar profanities—had something to do with the security lockout that had appeared on the screen of the Mercury Computer, and the line of thought this eventually led her down was even more depressing.

Item Three came when Rei failed to meet them at the same street corner where the walking distance between Juuban High and T*A was least, and Item Four was when a now thoroughly-disgruntled Usagi, a blissfully cheery Minako, one nervous Artemis, and a Ryo whose silence absolutely _screamed_ the need to see Ami arrived at the Tsukino household and found it utterly, totally empty of any life larger than bacteria. A Post-It note slapped to the fridge, a place Usagi was guaranteed to look, told them that Ikuko and Setsuna were still out shopping.

And Item Five was the long, slow waiting for people—and cats—to start returning. By the time Ikuko and Setsuna appeared, side-by-side and each carrying a shopping bag, Usagi had twisted her ring so many times and with such force that the base of that finger was raw and red and probably in real danger of bruising.

"Welcome home," she snapped tartly.

Ikuko smiled as if nothing was wrong. "Good afternoon, dear. How was school?" Not waiting for an answer, Ikuko glanced into the living room, receiving an enthusiastic smile-and-wave combo from Minako, a polite nod from Ryo. "Hello, Mina-chan. Hello, Urawa-san. Welcome back."

"Thank you, Tsukino-san. Do you need a hand with any of that?"

"No, that's all right; we've got it." Ikuko headed into the kitchen to unpack; after nodding her own greeting to Minako, Ryo, and Artemis, Setsuna followed. "Usagi, are your brother or cousin home yet?"

"Haven't seen either of them," Usagi replied. "ChibiUsa was going over to Hotaru-chan's, remember?"

"And they'll meet you at Mako-chan's; yes, I remember." Over the sound of a box of something being set down, they heard Ikuko say, "Where _has_ that boy gotten himself to?"

"Someplace dark and crawling with bugs, I hope," Usagi muttered before raising her voice. "Mom, did you let Luna out when you left? I've looked all over, and she doesn't seem to be around."

There was a pause in the shuffling of groceries. "No," Ikuko said, sounding faintly puzzled, "now that you mention it, I'm quite sure Luna was still inside when we went out. Did you look under the beds and in the closets?"

Several minutes later, a housewide sweep had turned up no more sign of Luna than a few stray hairs.

"I always said Luna was a smart cat," Ikuko said, "I guess I never realized just how smart. I can't imagine how she got out of here."

Seated on the living room couch, Artemis made a faint coughing sound, a not-so-subtle suggestion that _he_ could probably come up with a few ideas. Setsuna and the girls ignored him on principle, Ikuko asked Minako briefly if Artemis had a problem with hairballs, and Ryo just shook his head.

There was a knock at the door. Ikuko was the closest, so she answered it, and found Rei standing on the doorstep.

"Hello, Rei-chan. By any chance, have you seen Luna? She seems to have run off and hidden somewhere."

"Sorry, no," Rei replied. "I haven't seen Luna at all today. But I did find something else that belongs to you, Tsukino-san." Rei reached to her left and hauled the something—make that, the someone—into view. Shingo's hair was more unruly than usual, and his clothes were damp and slightly muddy from a tumble through some snowbank or other.

"Who have you been fighting with?" Ikuko said flatly.

"Hi, mom." Shingo grinned sheepishly. "A couple of the guys thought it might be funny to set up a snowball ambush in the schoolyard after last bell today. I guess things got a little out of control. It's nothing, really." Shingo tried to sell the story with his best smile, but Ikuko obviously wasn't buying it.

"Go get cleaned up," she ordered. "You can finish unpacking the groceries for me when you get back down, and then, young man, we are going to have a long talk about this sort of thing."

Shingo knew better than to argue with his mother. Sighing bitterly in a futile attempt to earn sympathy points, he left his boots outside; Ikuko would see to it that he scraped every last fleck of mud off before she allowed those boots back in the house. Then Shingo put away his winter jacket, hung his head, and slunk upstairs. He was rather good at slinking by now; with the equivalent of three sisters in the house and a half-dozen more wandering the city, it was a rare day indeed when Shingo could get in trouble _without_ getting in trouble.

Usagi ignored the opportunity to nag her brother in favor of an even better opportunity to nag Rei for being late. On some level, a part of Usagi realized that she had to get this building moodiness out of her system before they saw Ami, and fighting with Rei was the perfect means to do that. Besides, after all the times Rei had chewed Usagi out for not getting to meetings on time, she richly deserved it.

"Where have you been?"

"I got held up at a school council meeting," Rei said. "I _do_ have a life at school that involves more than eating, falling asleep, and getting in trouble -unlike some people I could name."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Would you like me to spell it out? I'll even use small words, just for you."

They were well into the dagger eyes and flaming auras part of the argument when the others herded them out of the house. Setsuna was halfway out the door when Ikuko stopped her.

"Remember what I said, Setsuna-chan. One thing at a time."

"I remember. It helps when there are people I know around." Setsuna smiled. "I'll be fine... Ikuko-mama."

Startled, Ikuko blinked. Then she started to laugh. "Oh no you don't. I already have three children in this house, thank you very much, and you're too old to start being the fourth."

Setsuna shrugged. "Had to try. Is 'Ikuko-chan' better?"

"Much." Ikuko hugged the younger woman. "Now get going."

***MILLENNIALS***

Minako knocked on the door, the others crowding around her. There was a long wait, and then the door slid quietly open. Minako opened her mouth to gush her usual cheery greeting, and the words died on her lips.

"Mako-chan," she said instead, "you look like hell."

Makoto smiled wearily and ushered them in, looking a little less worn out. But only a little. It wasn't simply that her clothes were rumpled and stained, or that several strands of hair had pulled loose from her trademark ponytail, or even that her face looked like she hadn't slept in a week. There was a kind of exhaustion in how she moved, slower and less certain than usual, that was even more disturbing than the lack of neatness. Ami might be the one who was sick, but her illness was taking its toll on Makoto as well.

"Bad day?" Rei asked quietly.

"You don't want to know," Makoto said. She absently brushed some of those strands of hair out of her eyes, seeming not to notice when they fell right back down. "I was just about to make some tea and a little chicken soup for when Ami-chan wakes up. Did anybody want any?"

"We don't want to spoil our dinners," Rei said quickly, noticing the gleam in Usagi's eyes that the mention of food always set off, "but some tea would be nice. Did you need any help?"

"No, I can get it. Make yourselves at home, but keep the noise down." She looked quite pointedly at Usagi and Rei, the sort of gaze that spoke eloquently of pain. "I mean it."

Heeding Makoto's advice, the others kept quiet as they made their way into the living room. From Ryo's vision, they expected to find Ami resting on the couch, but she wasn't there.

"Bedroom," Ryo mumbled cryptically, turning to head down the hall to Ami's room when Makoto's voice drifted in from the kitchen.

"And stay out of her room, all of you." Again, there was that unspoken implication that anybody who disobeyed was going to get hurt. Ryo paused in midstep, wrestling internally with a number of conflicting impulses. Evidently, love won out over self-preservation, as he shook his head and continued down the hall.

For once, his prescient ability seemed to be working in his favor, giving him all the information he wanted. Ryo stepped over a floorboard that would have creaked, another that would have groaned, and turned the handle on Ami's door very slowly to avoid the squeaky rattle. The hinges were well-oiled, fortunately, and the door swung open soundlessly; Ryo closed it behind him, carefully settling the wood to avoid a slam, and releasing the doorknob as slowly as he had turned it. Then he paused for a moment to consult with his gift, received a vision of Makoto serving tea to the others, and grinned in triumph. Safe! Then he turned to Ami.

His earlier vision had shown a very sick girl; this one appeared to have recovered a little. Her face was a great deal paler than Ryo could ever remember seeing it, to the point where even her lips seemed a bit white; Ami's pallor and peaceful expression brought to mind the old fairy tales of princesses locked in glass coffins or spells of sleeping death, waiting a kiss to waken them.

Thinking about that, it occurred to Ryo that, in two years of what he hoped was at least a moderately serious relationship, he and Ami hadn't actually kissed. He supposed the long-distance aspect of their relationship was to blame; both of them were somewhat reserved, and the fact that they saw each other maybe twice a month made things go even slower. Not that he'd minded waiting—well, maybe a little. Maybe a lot, in fact, but in Ryo's opinion, the wait was worth it. And he suspected that Ami was just as glad not to have a romance to divide her attention whenever Senshi business came up.

*We missed a lot of opportunities just because we're both a little shy about this sort of thing,* Ryo thought, *and we lost more chances because I wasn't here, or because she had to help save the world—again. But I'm here _now._ Maybe this'll give us a chance to make up for lost time... guess we'll have to wait and see.*

Kneeling next to mattress, Ryo realized that this was another of those 'opportunities,' but for one thing, he didn't see much point in trying to kiss Ami if she wasn't awake. Too easy. And she looked so perfect just sleeping there—*Blue pajamas,* Ryo noted, smiling. *Of course.*—that he couldn't bring himself to spoil the image. Oh well.

Perfection shifted slightly, yawning and opening her eyes to examine the room. She had been having the most unusual dreams, and it was hard to tell whether this was reality or just a fever-inspired hallucination. "Ryo-kun? Is that you?"

"I think so. But then again, I might also be a figment of your imagination that just happens to look like your handsome, talented, loving, bril..."

Even though her own experience in these matters was admittedly limited, years of listening to her friends talk about boys, and of watching how Usagi dealt with Mamoru, told Ami exactly what to do in this situation. She brought a pillow around and whacked the 'figment' soundly across the head in the middle of the word 'brilliant.' It was a nice, down-filled pillow, soft and fluffy and surprisingly heavy.

"Patient," Ryo added, earning another whack.

"...modest..." WHACK.

"...mmph-phmmph..." WHACK.

"...pheh, that tastes aw..." WHACK.

"Hey, what was that..." WHACK.

"Cut that out!" WHOOSH. "Ha! You mis..." WHACK. THUNK.

Ami leaned forward to regard the figure lying on the floor. "Had enough?" she inquired politely, holding the pillow at the ready.

"Just for that," Ryo groaned, "I don't think I'm going to kiss you after all." Ami raised an eyebrow and hefted the pillow again, and Ryo quickly waved his hands to fend off the attack. "Okay, okay!" Then he looked up. "Does that mean you _want_ me to kiss you?"

Ami thought about it. "It's probably better if you don't," she admitted. "I don't feel very kissable right now."

"You _look_ kissable." He said it with such sincerity that Ami blushed.

There was a moment of silence, and then Ami looked around. "Could you hand me that dressing gown?"

Ryo retrieved it. "It's not _that_ cold."

"Tell that to Mako-chan," Ami said dryly, throwing the thing on over her pajamas and tying it shut. She got to her feet, but quickly sat back down again as her brain tried to settle into her stomach, which in turn tried to... she pushed the image out of her mind and waved Ryo away. "I can do this. Just give me a minute."

"Not a chance," Ryo said, helping her stand. "I see you walking down _that_ hall in _that_ dressing gown, and leaning substantially on a shoulder that I'm rather attached to." Ami glared at him, and Ryo shrugged. "We can go now, or we can wait for the next ten minutes while you stagger around, Ami-chan, but like it or not, you're not leaving this room completely under your own power."

There wasn't much she could say to that. Although Ryo sometimes misinterpreted or misplaced the timing of the events in his visions, anything he actually _saw_ happening would happen just as he saw it. As long as he stuck purely to that, he was always right; it was when he tried to predict what would happen after the events shown in the vision that Ryo started getting into trouble. Ami had argued him out of a few such misconceptions before, but she really didn't feel up to it just now, so she gave in and let him help her out of the room.

*This is kind of nice,* she admitted to herself. Not that she wanted to make a habit of being too weak to stand, but having Ryo help her for a change, instead of the other way around, was sort of... pleasant. A little distracting, too, since their proximity was telling Ami some _very_ interesting things about Ryo as they walked. *I didn't think his shoulders were so... I mean, his hands are very... oh bother.* She was blushing again.

"Ami-chan? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. Well, half-lied. "What are you asking me for, anyway? Didn't your vision tell you whether we'd reach the living room without me falling over?"

"Oh, well, uh..." For some reason, Ryo was suddenly trying to look away. "That is, it..."

Something suspicious flashed through Ami's mind. "You didn't actually have a vision, did you? You just let me _think_ that you did, didn't you?"

"Uh, well, um, you see, I..." Ryo tried backing up, but Ami was advancing on him at the same time, and it really is very hard to get away from someone whose shoulders you happen to have one arm around. Then his heel caught on the edge of a slightly elevated floorboard; in trying to back away from Ami while helping her stand, Ryo was too far off-balance to catch himself, and he fell over backwards. With a yelp of surprise, Ami fell with him.

Drawn by the yelp and the successive thud, a number of heads poked around the corner at the end of the hall, looking on in shared confusion at the scene on the floor. Ryo was pinned beneath Ami, desperately trying to breathe between explosive bouts of laughter as he attempted to fend off her fingers, which were poking him repeatedly in every sensitive spot Ami could think of—which was quite a few—while she called him some extremely complicated names.

"Are they always this friendly?" ChibiUsa asked curiously. Ami looked up, and so did Ryo—only upside-down. On seeing the rest of the Senshi gathered at the end of the hall, watching with a variety of expressions, both of them turned absolutely scarlet.

"Not usually," Minako replied. "I'm sure we're going to love hearing their excuse. At least, I know _I_ am."

If it was at all possible, Ami turned even redder.

***MILLENNIALS***

The excuse took about fifteen minutes, and the light soup which Makoto and Michiru insisted that Ami eat took about seven more. And then there were the bowls of Jello that Makoto had made for the rest of them to snack on. Then they got down to business. Or tried to. With Luna absent, they had to fall back on Artemis for information, and there were some serious doubts as to whether or not the usually happy-go-lucky furball could deliver.

For once, he surprised them.

"A mana nexus isn't a machine in the modern sense of the word. It doesn't contain any mechanisms, and it doesn't operate according to the laws of science. Not as you know them, anyway." Artemis paused. "I guess the best way to describe a nexus is as the magical equivalent of a nuclear reactor; very complex, provides a lot of power, and has some very nasty consequences attached if it ever blows up."

"How does it work?" Michiru asked.

"I don't know the exact details, but it's sort of like... no, actually, it's more like... do you know what ley lines are?" There was a round of headshakes and confused looks, but Ami, Michiru, and Haruka were frowning thoughtfully.

"When she was telling us how to shut that thing down," Haruka said slowly, "Luna said to visualize lines of energy. I saw a few at first, but then a lot more than I was thinking of started to appear. They were coming up out of the ground and down from the air. Is that what you mean?"

"That's them," Artemis confirmed. "The ley lines are conduits of elemental energy, and they extend all over the world; if you tap into that energy, you can use it. That's what you're doing when you use your powers as Senshi; you take a little of your own energy and link into the greater energy of the ley lines. That's why Mars can summon fire out of thin air, for example; the energy is generated in other places—forest fires, volcanoes, sunlight, even the body heat of animals and people—but the ley lines carry it all over the world, waiting for somebody to use it." Artemis frowned. "Of course, it's also the presence of high concentrations of energy that cause or create things like fires in the first place, and the whole process sort of loops in on itself to... oh, never mind. You don't need to know all that right now. The ley lines carry energy, and the untapped energy is referred to as 'mana.'"

"And how does this fit in with a mana nexus?" Michiru asked.

"Well, the _original_ meaning for 'mana nexus' was a place in the natural world where a number of ley lines came very close together—they don't actually ever touch—giving the surrounding area was a major boost of available magic energy. The more lines there were in a nexus, the more places you could reach to gain energy. Originally, only intelligent beings with a certain kind of training could tap into the ley lines, but somebody eventually figured out how to build a device which could draw out mana energy without any effort. The best place to build those devices was over a nexus, so they were named accordingly." Artemis scratched behind his ear.

"I don't get it," Makoto objected. "Why would Luna get so worked up over something like this? Somebody bad wants to collect a lot of energy; so what? We've been there before."

"Not like this, you haven't. You see, you may _use_ elemental power as Senshi, but the basic part of your powers comes from _you,_ not the world around you. You need the right combination of spiritual, mental, and physical discipline in order to tap into mana in the first place; as you increase your own energy, you can do more with the power you're able to harness, but the power doesn't need _you._ It's always there, whether you are or not. No direction, no intent, no morality; just raw force. That's why it was so hard for the three of you to shut down that nexus. You weren't fighting its mind or programming, because it doesn't have either; you were fighting the basic elemental force that was running the thing."

"Is that why I feel so...?" Ami asked, not bothering to finish the question.

Artemis nodded. "You were dealing with more undirected power than you were used to. Haruka and Michiru handled it better because they're older, with more accumulated strength and internal energy, and because they had their Talismans to help focus and direct the power."

"And my whole body _still_ feels like one giant bruise," Haruka chuckled ruefully.

"All of this is very interesting," Minako said, in a tone which wasn't even remotely interested, "but it still doesn't explain why Luna tripped out on us."

"'Skipped' out," Artemis grumbled, "and I was getting to that, if you'll just wait. Mana nexi were in common use for a long time, well before the Silver Millennium, because the power they generated could be used for all sorts of things. Set up one nexus to harness electrical energy, and you could power a modern city; set up another to harness fire, and you could keep it warm."

"Or use wind and water to control the weather," Rei noted.

"Exactly. Dozens of different variations were created, but the basic design remained the same; take mana energy from the environment and put it into use. Nobody ever thought there'd be a problem, because all they were doing was tapping what was naturally present, and nothing was being damaged. At least, that's what everyone thought." Artemis sighed. "One mana nexus by itself isn't a problem. Even ten, or a hundred, are reasonably safe, because the power they draw off has time to diffuse into the environment and be cycled back into the ley lines, where it can be used again. But when you have a hundred thousand nexi running at full power, all the time, all over the planet, there just isn't enough power to go around. Things just started to shut down."

"How do you 'shut down' a planet?" Makoto asked, frowning.

"Think about it," Ami said. "Water energy is being drained off, so lakes and oceans start to dry up. Earth energy that should be sustaining plants is instead being used to prevent earthquakes, so forests and all the animals in them start to die. Fire energy is being used to heat cities while the rest of the world gets colder, and air energy that should be circulating fresh air is being used to prevent storm winds, so the atmosphere starts to stagnate." *It's not even a remotely scientific explanation,* she admitted to herself, *but then, this isn't science.*

"And the energy of the planet's magnetic field is being used to power those cities," Artemis added, "so the field itself fluctuates, and lethal doses of solar radiation start to get through. Of course, this is assuming that the drain on earth and fire energies doesn't shut down the movement of the molten core which creates that field in the meantime. Without power to maintain themselves, the ley lines fall apart, which means there's nowhere for the energy to return, so it gets concentrated into small areas that keep on shrinking, consuming themselves from the inside. And eventually, when the last bit of power is used up, the last ley lines vanish, and all the power that would normally seep back into them just sort of drifts off into eternity instead, leaving a dead planet behind. That's not even the worst of it, though."

"It gets _worse?_" Usagi protested.

"Considerably. Do you remember what I said on New Year's? About how there were other civilizations on Earth a long time before the Moon Kingdom and all the other ones we knew about?"

"I remember," Rei said. "You mentioned something about ruins left behind in other parts of the solar system."

Artemis nodded. "When the ley lines began to fade out, it got harder to use magic in certain areas of the world, and in some places, it was downright impossible. That meant that existing magic, whether spells, abilities, or devices, stopped working in those areas. And when that happened, people found out that those lost civilizations had left behind other things besides ruins. 'Imprisoned' is probably a better term than 'left behind,' but the 'things' part is pretty accurate. They were sealed beneath the surface in cells that were virtually indestructible—virtually, because they were powered by magic. When magic started to fade, the cells began to fail, and some of those things got loose."

"What sort of 'things' are we talking about, here?" Michiru asked.

"You really don't want to know, believe me." Artemis shuddered. "I saw a picture of one once, and that was enough to give me nightmares for a month. Suffice to say, they were big, ugly, and powerful, and they were _extremely_ cranky about having been locked up for who knows how long, so they took out their frustration on whatever happened to be handy. Eventually, they were all either destroyed or sealed back up."

"And people stopped using mana nexi?" Ami guessed.

"No. At the time, everyone thought the monsters had been the cause of the drain. It was a handy excuse so they wouldn't have to consider the possibility that their own inventions were the problem, and the fact that the planet started to recover afterwards made it seem like they were right." Artemis shook his head. "What was actually going on was that so many people had died, and so many nexi had been destroyed, that the drain on the ley lines was low enough for them to actually recover. It took centuries of rebuilding before the drain increased to the danger point again, but when it did, one of the old beasts got loose and went on the usual rampage. After it had been stopped, some people started putting two and two together without getting five." Artemis stopped suddenly and looked suspiciously at Minako.

"What? What did I do?"

"I've been hanging around you too long," Artemis said sourly. "I'm starting to talk like you do." He shook his head. "At any rate, once the connection between the nexi and the global drain was realized, it was inevitable that they'd be removed, but the change took a long time, because a lot of people never admitted the problem, and others didn't want to give up the comfort a nexus could afford. When the Moon Kingdom was founded, the original Serenity passed a decree prohibiting the construction or use of mana nexi, and it was during the reign of Serenity VII that the last nexus was destroyed. The designs for them were classified by the Silver Council in the early years of what was eventually to become the Silver Millennium, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"That was quite a story," Setsuna murmured. "But why would Luna be so upset about it?"

"It hardly sounded like you let any state secrets slip," Minako added.

"I didn't, but she would have. You see, Luna had better security clearance than I did because she worked with the Queen and the Princess more closely. Part of the security measures put in place for things like mana nexi was a geas not to-"

"A what?" Haruka asked.

"Geas. It's a type of magic, sort of like a really powerful post-hypnotic suggestion. In this case, people with high-level clearance were spelled so they literally _couldn't_ talk about what they knew except under very specific circumstances—meetings of the Silver Council or really extreme emergencies, for the most part. I didn't have that kind of clearance."

"Then how did you know all this?" Hotaru asked.

"He's a Grade-A sneak," Minako said, "that's how."

"Basically true," Artemis admitted, totally unashamed. "I had enough clearance to know a few things, and I heard other things from time to time that I wasn't really supposed to. And the library in the Royal Palace had a _lot_ of books, let me tell you. After a while, it all just jelled together."

"Speaking of things jelling," Hotaru asked, looking up at Makoto. "Is there any of that Jello left?"

"Help yourself."

Hotaru grinned. "I intend to."

Hotaru was trying to decide whether she wanted lime or strawberry when she heard a faint knock at the door. Glancing into the living room, she saw that the others were arguing about something and hadn't heard the knock, so she headed for the front door.

There was a stranger standing on the doorstep, a fellow of about medium height whom she didn't recognize. He wasn't particularly handsome, but his grey eyes were sort of striking, and his hair—also grey—made him seem older than his face might have suggested. He had a black cat curled up in his arm, a cat who-

"Luna!" Luna made a faint meow, and Hotaru looked up at the man.

"Tsukino Usagi?" he asked.

"No, I'm Tomoe Hotaru. Usagi-chan's inside. Where did... I mean, how did you..."

He smiled faintly and indicated the Department of Animal Control insignia on his jacket. "I found her getting chased by a rather nasty dog in the park." He tapped Luna's black collar, half-hidden under her fur, which had Usagi's address and phone number on it. "When I called, a lady named Ikuko answered, and when I told her where I was, she told me that her daughter was visiting a friend in the area. It was on my way home, so I offered to drop the cat off. I understand Usagi-san has been worried about her."

"She has, and she'll be glad to see her," Hotaru said, taking Luna. "Thank you very much."

"All part of the job, Tomoe-san. Have a nice day." The fellow tipped his hat and headed back down the stairs, whistling an odd tune Hotaru didn't recognize.

"Where have you been?" Hotaru asked as soon as she was sure the grey-haired man was out of earshot.

"Getting chased by a pitbull the size of a bear," Luna said. "Could you tell me if... has Artemis... did he..."

"He told us," Hotaru said, surprised by just how difficult it was for Luna to ask. Evidently, that was one whammy of a spell.

"Where have you been?" Usagi asked a moment later.

"I already asked that," Hotaru said. "A man from Animal Control found her in the park, being chased by a dog. He called your place, your mother told him where you were, and he swung by."

"That was nice of him," Minako noted. "Was he cute, too?"

"He was a little too old for you, Mina-chan. At least," Hotaru amended, "I think he was. It was sort of hard to tell; he had grey hair, but he wasn't that old."

Haruka looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing as the image of the mysteriously helpful airline attendant in Berlin floated out of the back of her mind.

"Well," Usagi was saying, "Artemis explained about why you couldn't tell us anything, so I guess I can forgive you. But why did you take off like that? You could have just sat here and kept quiet."

"Actually, I couldn't. Part of the geas is... the nature of the spell..." Luna was once again fighting to get the words out.

"It's one of the conditions of the geas," Artemis said quickly. "Compulsion to avoid situations where the blocked topic is being discussed." Luna exhaled and gave him a grateful look.

"I think we're going to have to do something about that," Ami said. "We can't really afford to have you start stuttering in the middle of a battle."

"Good point," Rei agreed. "Is there any way to remove the geas?" She barely stumbled over the word at all.

Artemis shook his head. "The geas was designed to stand up to every sort of mental probing known. There are ways to get by its defenses and remove the whole thing, but I don't know what they are."

"And I can't tell you what they are," Luna added. "Besides, this level of geas is the equivalent of a royal decree; it takes another royal decree to countermand it."

"I could do that," Usagi said.

"No, you couldn't. You may be a queen in another thousand years, but that's Crystal Tokyo; as far as the Moon Kingdom is concerned, you'll always be a princess. That goes for their magic, too."

"Oh." Usagi frowned, then sighed. "Well, I guess there's only one solution; we're going to have to go to the Moon."

"Exactly," Luna said, "there's no way to..." She broke off in mid-sentence with a curious kind of choked snort when she realized what Usagi had said. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on," Usagi said. "It's not like it'd be the first time. And Queen Serenity's still up there, remember?"

"You're in no condition to..." Luna started to say.

"Oh, bother that." 'Bother' wasn't actually the word Usagi used. "We already know that we can teleport with a few passengers, and ChibiUsa can fill in for me. And if we bring the Outers along as well, there'll be plenty of extra power. I won't have to _do_ anything."

"That's not the point," Luna said, although it was in fact the point she had been about to make. "Teleporting is _dangerous,_ Usagi. You break every molecule in your body down into energy, shoot it somewhere else, then reassemble it. Your baby's still growing right now, and if something gets misplaced in the teleport..."

"Actually," ChibiUsa broke in, "she'll be fine. We will, I mean. What I mean to say is..." She stopped and took a breath before trying again. "Teleporting isn't any more dangerous for a pregnant woman than for anybody else, as long as nothing interferes with the trip."

"How do you know that?" Luna asked.

"Well, there was this time about... two years ago, I think, when M-mmph!" She clapped her hands over her mouth, cutting off the name at the last possible second.

"Good recovery," Hotaru said dryly, nudging her friend in the ribs. Then she leaned towards the others and, in an intentionally loud whisper, said, "It's one of those things she's not supposed to tell us about."

"We sort of guessed that," Setsuna whispered back. "ChibiUsa?"

"Mmph?"

"I take it you were going to say that one of us had, or rather, _will_ have, the occasion to teleport while she is... expecting? And nothing bad happens as a result?" ChibiUsa nodded, making a nonverbal sound of agreement. "Good."

"Well," Usagi said triumphantly. "Problem solved. Do we leave right now or wait until after dinner?"

***MILLENNIALS***

It took them almost an hour to actually get underway.

The first delay was due to the fact that, for a variety of reasons, Setsuna hadn't transformed into Pluto once since her arrival; as they had coached her through the change from her Senshi self into her civilian identity, so too now did the girls have to lead Setsuna through the process of the transformation. As Haruka pointed out—before Michiru smacked her across the back of the head—it went a lot easier if you didn't stop to consider that, magic or not, what you were effectively doing was taking off all your clothes in public. Naturally, this not only made things even more difficult for Setsuna, but it made some of the other girls stop in the middle of transforming.

Ryo left the room rather quickly at that point, and after several moments of being stared at, Artemis followed him.

The second delay was when Ami tried to transform and nearly blacked out, dropping her pen and the magic swirling around it as a sharp pain lanced through her head. The energy dissipated in a most unexpected way when it hit the floor, leaving everything in the room dusted with a light layer of frost. Makoto—or Jupiter, by that point—was understandably not too thrilled about what the sudden burst of cold was going to do to her plants, but they were all more immediately concerned about Ami.

"You're still recovering from the overload," Luna explained. "I was afraid this might happen, but there was no way to be sure just how bad it was until you actually tried to transform. You'll still be able to become Mercury," she added quickly, seeing the horrified expression that was starting to build on Ami's face. "It'll just take a few days for your body to get its strength back and cycle the con... the infe..." Again, the geas intruded. "It'll pass," Luna finished lamely.

"Can we teleport without Mercury?" Mars asked.

Luna looked at Uranus, Neptune, Saturn, Pluto, and ChibiMoon. "I think you'll manage."

There was yet another delay when ChibiUsa transformed. Venus had said to Mars, during their search of the airport some weeks before, that she wouldn't have been surprised to learn that their time-traveling friend could turn into a full-fledged Sailor Moon rather than the cutesy and essentially useless ChibiMoon they all remembered. This more or less proved to be the case, as ChibiUsa disappeared and was replaced by someone with pink hair, red eyes, and an almost exact replica of the original Sailor Moon fuku—right down to the specifics of the flashy light show and the post-transformation pose.

The other Senshi expected that Usagi, who was fiercely protective of her alter-ego and everything that went with it, would explode on learning about this 'impostor.' They were more than a little surprised when, instead of going up in a mushroom cloud of righteous indignation, Usagi calmly complimented 'Sailor Moon' on her outfit, and then asked whether she had her tiara throw down or not.

"Luna keeps telling me I drift a little to the left in practice drills," she admitted with a grimace.

"I had the same problem," Usagi commiserated. "It's hard to get that thing to go where you want, isn't it?"

"I _know._ And when you've got to take airspeed and direction and all that into account..."

"Oh, don't get me started. There was this one time that I..."

"IF you two don't mind," Luna interrupted.

"She's right," Usagi said. "We can compare notes later."

"Right."

They called Ryo and Artemis back in and did their best to gather into something that loosely resembled the usual circle of five the Inner Senshi used when group-teleporting. It was necessary to make some adjustments to account for the increased number of travelers, of course, and a few more to account for the rather limited space in the living room. And there was one more little delay.

"Will you STOP doing that?" Mars demanded of Venus, who had discovered that it was possible for her to go from one Senshi identity to the other simply by touching the index fingers of both hands to the gemstone in her tiara. Sailor V's mask would then flow out from under the tiara while the rest of her uniform underwent the various cosmetic changes—symbols, stitching, and so on—that distinguished Sailor Venus from the 'new and improved Sailor V.' The problem was that Venus seemed unable to stick with one guise, and was switching her appearance around every twenty seconds or so—and it was _really_ getting on Mars' nerves.

"I just want to look my best," Sailor V said. "We _are_ going to visit a queen, after all."

"Uh, V," Jupiter said, "I don't think there are going to be many of your fans on the Moon."

Sailor V frowned. "I guess you're right. Nuts." And she shifted back to Venus.

They all closed their eyes—the Senshi because it helped them concentrate, the rest because, as Artemis said, you _really_ didn't want to see what the rest of the universe looked like while you were being turned inside out and backwards.

Makoto's apartment filled with multicolored light...

***MILLENNIALS***

In a room that was several blocks away and a few stories down from the apartment, a man fell off his chair as alarms began to go wild all around him. A dozen monitors were showing sine-wave patterns the size of mountains while devices similar to odometers—similar in appearance, if not actual function—racked up several thousand 'miles' in a few seconds of operation.

The man grabbed a telephone from his desk and pushed one of only three buttons on it before shouting into the receiver. "This is monitor six to control! Control, come in!"

"This is control, what... Monitor six, what's going on? It sounds like you've got a whole fire brigade in there!"

"The detection system just picked up a whopper of a power spike, control. Multiple source signals, energy vectors all over the charts... I don't think we've got anything like this on record."

"Hang on, monitor six. We're sending a team up. Keep the system recording as long as you can."

"Will do, control."

***MILLENNIALS***

Proteus was not much better prepared for the energy surge than 'monitor six.' Those of its sensory clusters located near the source curled up and blacked out from the energy overload, and its entire network shorted out.

Around the city, eight men and women with little star-shaped devices stuck to their necks—devices made of green, mosslike matter—suddenly stumbled and looked around as if waking up from a dream. The moment of confusion passed as Proteus restored the functioning of its network, and what had been a roar of pain in their minds returned to the quiet presence it had been since New Year's Eve.

***MILLENNIALS***

The spell-constructed image hovering in the air before her wavered suddenly. The girl half-turned as a sense of... something... brushed against the edges of the defensive spells Archon had taught her, spells which wrapped her home in layers of enshrouding energy and allowed her to practice in secret.

The sudden feeling had something to do with magic, of that she was certain, but not hers. It had been too brief a sensation for her to identify the source, but somehow, she knew that Archon was not responsible. If he were to test her, there would not be that feeling of... leaving?

That bothered her. Someone was using magic. But if not her, or her teacher, then who?

***MILLENNIALS***

Anon looked up at the dimming sky. It was going to be a pretty night, he suspected; the stars were beginning to appear, and the moon, though a few days past full waxing, was still bright in the sky. And with the color panorama being provided by the setting sun, well...

He blinked as a streak of light cut across the heavens, something VERY bright and moving VERY fast. There was an old superstition that shooting stars were omens of disaster, but somehow, looking at this one, Anon didn't feel the slightest bit afraid. He watched the comet—it had to be a comet, since it was moving away, not falling down and burning up in the atmosphere—for a minute or so before it disappeared into the light of the low-hanging moon.

Anon was on his way back inside when he recalled something from a science class taken a number of years ago; regardless of which way they are moving, comets' tails always project _away_ from the sun, whose heat and solar wind are what create them in the first place.

This comet's tail had been pointing in the wrong direction.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ryo had, in his admittedly short lifetime, spent many hours dealing with the sensation of space and time intruding itself upon his awareness. He had once been briefly metamorphosed into something with a body the size of a tank and a heart colder than ice, and had also been imprisoned alongside four other people and one cat in a chunk of crystal less than half the size of his hand.

Even with all that, being disassembled into his component atoms, then having said atoms shot through a void of about 385,000 kilometers, to be reassembled on the surface of a celestial body where the specter of explosive decompression raised its ugly head—well, this was a new experience for him, and his body had to find some way of expressing its reaction.

He sneezed.

"Gesundheit," Venus said from across the circle.

Ryo sneezed a second time. "You can say that again."

"I don't think I can, actually." Venus looked around as Ryo sneezed a third time. "Do you suppose he's allergic to moon dust?"

"If he is, he's in big trouble." Jupiter made a meaningful sort of nod at the surrounding dust plain.

Ryo took a seat on a nearby boulder and concentrated on the twitch in his nostrils—specifically, on getting it to go away. At some point, he noticed that there were grooves in the boulder, grooves which felt unusually even and regular. Looking down, Ryo saw he was actually sitting on a piece of a toppled column, first cousin of the pillars he had seen in Greece. Looking up, and then around, he saw quite a few other bits of debris decorating what should have been a completely empty landscape.

"Can somebody explain to me why no astronomers or astronauts have ever thrown a fit about finding thousand year-old ruins on the Moon?"

"They didn't see them," Luna replied. "See that haze in the sky?" They looked up—Ryo noted that, unlike images from the various moon landings, the lunar sky in this area was a faint blue rather than pitch black, but he let it pass without comment—and saw what Luna was talking about; the distant Earth seemed a little blurry around the edges, and a similar sort of rainbow-shift distortion appeared when they looked out at the line along the horizon where the endless sky touched the dusty lunar surface.

"What's left of the royal palace is surrounded by a force field," Artemis explained. "It's a combination of atmospheric shield and what modern techno-babble would refer to as a cloaking device; it lets _us_ move around freely up here and keeps everyone else on Earth from seeing things they're not ready to deal with just yet."

"Ah." Ryo glanced around with something close to devious twinkling in his eye. "Isn't there supposed to be a rabbit up here somewhere?"

"You just never mind about the rabbit," Usagi warned him, walking off towards the largest concentration of rubble.

"I tried that one the last time we were here," Jupiter explained.

They followed Usagi into what had once been the heart of the longest age of peace in human history. The Inner Senshi had been here once before, and very little had changed from what they remembered; as Ami could have explained, the lack of weather, plant life, or geological activity means that the Moon doesn't change much when left to itself. The toppled pillars and shattered blocks were still covered with the same layer of fine dust, no more and no less, but they did not find their own footprints; nobody except Ami and Luna stopped to wonder about that, and they both realized that this was another, admittedly minor result of that annoying time loop.

They were all fairly quiet as they walked. There was something about this place that was reminiscent of the air in an empty church, something equal parts peace, sanctity, and the faint sense of being watched. The Senshi and the two cats were also reliving flashes of their former lives, brief bursts of bittersweet recognition for this or that upright column or misplaced stone rising up in their minds, wistful ghosts that almost seemed to reconstruct the ruined splendor of a time long since past. Pluto and ChibiMoon were not experiencing this reverie—the one because she could not remember, the other because she had never belonged to the age from which the ruins and their attending phantoms dated—but they also felt a kinship with the dead land.

Ryo was also quiet, but for different reasons. Rather than peace, he felt unease; he felt the sanctity of this place not as he would on walking into a church, but as if he were violating a grave, and the sensation of watchful eyes was not that of the gaze of a benevolent spirit, but of a thousand creeping things hiding among the shadows.

Up ahead, Usagi stopped, standing before a relatively dust-free section of floor, on which a large and intricate image had been carved. "We're here," she announced.

"What is that?" Neptune asked, pointing at the symbol. "It looks familiar."

Luna said a word that wasn't Japanese or English or any other language any of them could speak, but which sounded familiar. "That's what we called them; there isn't a word today which could describe them completely. They were sort of like phone booths, information desks, and public Internet access all in one; if you were in a hurry and had the right clearance, you could use them to teleport, too." Luna stood over the symbol and said another word. The raised lines briefly glowed with blue-white light, but nothing else happened.

"Let me try," Usagi said, moving into the circle with Luna. "Do I have to say anything?"

"The computer won't give you access unless you use the correct commands," Luna admitted, "but we're not trying to talk to the computer here. Just call Queen Serenity; she'll recognize you even if the computer doesn't."

Usagi nodded. "Queen Serenity." There was a pause, but nothing happened. "Hello?" Another silence. Usagi thought for a moment, then smiled. "Mother."

That got a few raised eyebrows, but it worked. The symbol glowed again, more brightly than when Luna had activated it, and a pillar of light and shadow rose up into the air. There was a sudden flash, and everyone averted their eyes. When they looked back, there was a silence.

Usagi and Luna had vanished.

***MILLENNIALS***

They were standing in a room which appeared to be made entirely of crystals and light. The floor on which they stood was a raised balcony, glossy smooth panels of shimmering white surrounded by a low wall of blunted crystal prongs, from which they looked out into the cavernous main chamber. The balcony was the only level space; everywhere else was glowing, multicolored masses of crystal, some larger than Usagi, others smaller than her little finger, all of them protruding from the walls and ceiling at odd angles. Arcs of energy danced between certain of the gleaming structures, and a faint hum filled the air.

"Where are we?" Usagi asked, somewhat nervously. She blinked as she realized that her voice sounded different; after a moment, she also realized that her everyday clothes had been replaced by the flowing white gown of her alter ego, the Moon Princess. *So much for not transforming,* she thought absently. Worried, she touched one hand to the swell of her belly, but in the same instant she knew that, somehow, everything was all right.

"Do not be afraid, dear one," a familiar voice said behind her. Usagi/Serenity turned.

"Hello, mother." She/they were still nervous, but for entirely different reasons. Two entirely separate lives were coiling around each other in the same head, one the life of a not-so-ordinary teenage schoolgirl, the other the life of a long-dead princess; the situation which faced her/them now evoked very similar and yet very different responses.

Usagi was a little nervous about speaking to someone who was most definitely, but not quite completely, dead. Moreover, it was never easy for her to deal with the fact that this dead woman was, or had been, her mother; to Usagi, mother had always been Ikuko, the housewife. She was uncomfortable appearing before such a flawlessly beautiful woman in her current condition—at five months, there was no hiding the obvious, not even in the loosely-gathered gown she was wearing—and just a touch scared about being whisked away from her friends to some place she didn't recognize.

Serenity, on the other hand, had no trouble dealing with the fact that this was her mother, or that she was dead; being technically dead herself, the Moon Princess held a different view on the matter than the latest incarnation of her spirit. The room that Usagi found strange and unfamiliar, Serenity recognized immediately as being somewhere in the vast computer complex buried beneath the palace; the humming crystals and dancing energy all around were the mechanisms and memory banks of that very device. What bothered Serenity was that there were very strict rules for princesses, and her current condition violated more than one of those rules. She was terribly afraid that her mother would be disappointed in her.

There was no disappointment evident on the dead Queen's face, just the same gentle smile she always seemed to have—'always' being a grand total of two times 'in the flesh,' plus a few half-complete dreams and other bits of memory.

"Do not be afraid," Serenity repeated gently. "You are safe here." The Queen looked down. "Hello, Luna."

"Your Majesty," Luna replied, bowing her head. "If I may ask, why did you not respond when I accessed the computer? And why bring us here?"

"The computer detected a source of negative energy in your vicinity," Serenity replied. "I couldn't be sure whether it was safe to speak to you all or not." She turned to Usagi. "I knew you would speak to me when Luna failed; that gave me the opportunity to bring you here, where the faculties of the computer and what powers I have left are at their strongest. When you passed through the transit beam, I was able to access your memories and determine why you had come." The smile took on a hint of understanding. "You should know by now, dear one, there is nothing you could ever do that will make me ashamed of you."

Usagi/Serenity felt her/their heart leap. Before she/they could think, she/they were moving forward to wrap her/their arms around the Queen. It occurred to both sides at the last second that the Queen was just a disembodied spirit inhabiting a projected image of her long-dead body; there would be nothing to hug.

Imagine her/their surprise when Queen Serenity turned out to be as solid and as warm as anyone still breathing, and returned the embrace.

"I told you," the Queen said, responding to the question before it could be asked, "this is where I have the most power. The computer has enough energy to project a solid hologram when there is need. And there was a need," Serenity added in a thick voice. "I have missed you, little moonchild."

"Mother," Usagi/Serenity said, both sides fully comfortable with the word, both on the verge of tears.

Luna looked away, brushing aside tears of her own.

After a very long time, mother and daughter pulled apart. "As much as I might wish otherwise," Serenity said, "time moves ahead without pause. And we have a great deal to do."

Usagi nodded. Somewhere during that hug, the barriers between schoolgirl and princess had gone away; 'they' were 'she' now. "You said something about negative energy."

"The one you call Ryo."

Usagi and Luna both blinked. "Ryo? But he's not... I mean, he _was,_ but I..."

"I know. The computer was not programmed to discern between passive and active forms of dark energy; it picked up the last traces of the shadow within your friend and assumed him to be a threat. An error which I was, fortunately, able to correct before any harm came to him." The Queen smiled ruefully. "Some of the defenses of this place are still in operation, even after all this time, and they might have reacted against the young man. That will not happen, now."

"Ami will be glad to hear that."

Serenity smiled. "I imagine so. Now, as to the matter which brought you here..." She turned and passed one hand over a nearby podium. Several crystals near the ceiling resonated a higher note than their neighbors, at which point several of the panels in the floor began to rise. When the column was at a height slightly more than Serenity's, one side vanished in a haze of lines, leaving behind a human-shaped space. "This is something I should have done a long time ago," Serenity admitted. "Luna, step into it."

Usagi glanced at the space, which could have held some monsters she'd met and still have room to spare. "Isn't it a bit big for a cat?"

"Yes, it is. But that's not a problem, since Luna can..." Serenity stopped short, looking first at her daughter, then down at her former advisor with something very close to chagrin written across her normally unruffled features. "Oh dear. You don't remember, do you?"

Luna affected a look of injured pride. "My memory, Majesty, is as impeccable now as it has ever been."

"Yeah, right." Usagi glanced wryly at Serenity. "This from the furball who invented Sailor Moon because she couldn't remember who I really was."

"U-SA-GI..."

"Prolonged cold sleep can do odd things to long-term memory," Serenity said. "Just a moment." She tapped several facets of a different crystal console, producing a much lower hum from somewhere in the vast chamber. Serenity glanced at Luna out of the corner of one eye. "Don't move."

"What..." Three whitish beams slammed into each other overhead and were funneled downwards as a single flow of energy, which swept down around Luna before she had a chance to look up or finish the word, let alone the question. When beams terminated a second later, Usagi's jaw hit the floor.

A young, beautiful girl stood where Luna had been, wrapped in a blue and silver gown of a strange design. Her hair was very dark and very long, reaching down her back almost to her knees. Usagi knew from personal experience that long hair, while potentially glamorous, is also heavy; and yet, when the girl moved her head, it was as if her hair had no weight to it at all. The girl's skin, in contrast to her hair, was pale and unblemished; except for the golden crescent on her forehead, its soft, porcelain-white hue was suffused pink with a faint glow of vitality. Wide, expressive eyes nearly as dark as her hair were currently engaged in a startled examination of her upraised hands; those eyes were too old and wise for that young face, and yet they belonged there. There was also something unmistakably feline in the shape of her eyes and half-hidden ears, in the grace with which she moved.

"Oh my." She touched her face, exploring the shape of cheeks, chin, and lips. "Oh dear."

Usagi turned to Serenity. "How did you do that? It took the Grail to transform Luna the last time, and Mistress Nine _broke_ it afterwards."

Serenity smiled. "Shapeshifting magic is not so difficult, dear one, and it does not require the power of something like the Grail. As for it _breaking,_ the Grail cannot be destroyed so easily. It came to you because the world needed you, and you needed its power; it left you because you also had to be free to grow into your own strength. As for the transformation... do you remember your lessons?"

Usagi frowned. Serenity was trying to recall something; it was on the edge of her thoughts, the tip of her tongue...

Seeing her daughter at a loss, the Queen explained. "Luna's people, the Nekoron, are a race of shapeshifters. Their natural form is that of the small cat, but they may freely choose the form which best suits their needs, feline or humanoid." Serenity crossed the chamber and took Luna's hands between her own, pulling them away from the frightened girl's face.

"Please," Luna said. Usagi was shocked to see her friend was actually crying. "Change me back. I can't... I don't..."

"I will change you back," Serenity promised. "But you have to wear this shape for a few minutes."

"I... I can't!"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Usagi observed, trying not to be jealous. It was hard to see how there could be anything _less_ wrong with Luna's form.

"You don't understand," Luna whispered. "This isn't me."

"No, Luna," Serenity corrected firmly, "this _is_ you. As much as are fur and whiskers and claws, this also is a part of you. The ability is in your blood, and even if you cannot remember how to make the change now, it _will_ come back to you. You can choose not to look like this, if that is what you want, but don't ignore it. Don't ever ignore it." The stern gaze melted into a gentle smile. "Some of the happiest times I can remember were when you wore this form. Do you remember the dances at the Harvest Festival, the year we first met? That poor captain who danced six turns straight to keep you all to himself?"

"He couldn't even dance that well," Luna noted absently. "But I'm surprised you noticed me at all; as I recall, you spent most of the evening draped on the arm of that..." Luna stopped speaking and looked up sharply. "I can... I can remember."

"I think," Serenity said, "that because you were locked in one form for so long, and because you therefore assumed that you had never been anything else but a cat, your memories of times when you were most definitely not a cat were suppressed or altered. Now that you know the truth..." She trailed off and smiled. "Is it so bad, now?"

"N-no," Luna stammered, managing a return smile which became reminiscent as more memories flooded into her mind, clearer and brighter now than they had been on the surface. She looked down at the gown she was wearing and sighed. "This is one of yours, isn't it? I remember you wearing it for that Midsummer Ball, when Lord Europa's oldest boy got drunk and crashed into the chandelier while trying to fly around the room."

"The Europas always did know how to have a party. And he was even cute when they picked him out of the wreckage. Loud, too." Both women giggled—Usagi blinked; Luna _never_ giggled—recalling a shared memory.

"Whose arm?" Usagi asked curiously.

Serenity seemed startled. "What?"

"Whose arm was it? The one that you spent the evening on, I mean."

Usagi had never imagined that someone like Queen Serenity could ever look embarrassed, but the proof was right there in front of her, big as life and twice as red. Luna hid a smile.

"Never mind," she mumbled. "The geas, remember?"

As Luna stepped into the aperture, it occurred to Usagi that her friend and her mother had been more than just subject and ruler; to judge by the giggling, they had been friends.

*Of course,* the whispering voice of her past self told her. *Mother was a princess once, too, and a princess's closest friends are most often her ladies- in-waiting and handmaidens. Luna came to the Moon as the daughter of the ambassador of Mau, and stayed as one of Mother's attendants. She was a year or two younger than Mother then, I think, but they were always very close.* Serenity looked out through Usagi's eyes and sighed. *This must be difficult for her. For Mother, too, but she's had time to grow used to it. Luna isn't so lucky.*

*We'll look after her,* Usagi whispered back.

There was silence as the closet-device did its work, noiseless arcs of energy flicking out from its sides to touch Luna's head. After a time, the lights died, and Luna stepped out of the space; the pillar began to sink back into the floor.

"It is done," Serenity said simply. "Are you sure you want me to turn you back, Luna?"

"Yes," Luna replied. "I'm... I'm just not ready for this." She made an all-inclusive motion with her hands, indicating not only the human shape, but everything that went with it. Then she smiled—smirked, actually. "Besides, I like the idea of leaving Artemis completely in the dark for a while."

"You're terrible," Serenity laughed, embracing Luna. Then she sighed. "And now it is time for you two to go back, before the Senshi start digging to find you or do something equally foolish."

"So soon?" Usagi asked.

"Yes." The dead Queen brushed a lock of hair out of her daughter's face before hugging her again. Her tears were only simulations of the real thing, copies made of light and shadow, but the emotion behind them was real enough. Her voice, though, revealed no hint of just how much this was hurting her. "I do not know what is coming, dear one, but I know that it will be very dangerous, for you personally, for your Senshi, and for many others. The best I can do to help you is to help them, but I am not sure if it will be enough."

"It is," Usagi said. "It will be." The world was disappearing into white light, taking Queen Serenity with it; Usagi could feel the outline of the woman fading... faded... gone... "Mother?"

"I'm right here, dear one," the Queen's voice whispered. "I told you once, I will always be where you can find me when you need me."

"I remember," Usagi said. The voice was growing fainter as the light carried her up. Back to the surface, to her friends. "Good-bye, Mother. I love you."

"I love you, too... Usagi."

***SAILOR SAYS***

_(Artemis is alone on the set.) _

**Artemis** _(teary-eyed)_: Geez, I'm so choked up over that last act... if Luna sees me like this, I'm never going to hear the end of it. _(blows his nose)_ Oh, hi. Ahem. Excuse me. Okay, I'm better now. Right. Usagi's not doing this because... well, you've probably got a pretty good idea why. Anyway, the moral for this episode is... uh... I had it a second ago...

_(Spotlight falls on him, Jeopardy music playing the background.)_

**Artemis**: A-ha! _(80's pop band appears on screen, replacing the Jeopardy theme with a few bars of 'Take On Me.' Artemis ignores them.)_ Today's moral is a lesson in family. What makes a family? Is it just a question of birth and blood, or can sweat and tears play a part as well? (pauses) I have _really_ got to spend some time away from Minako...

_(Luna pops up, in feline form.) _

**Luna**: The concept my linguistically challenged counterpart is blundering his way towards is that 'family' can mean many things. It doesn't just have to be people you're related to; indeed, there are plenty of people you could ask who wouldn't include all their relatives into their idea of what a family is. Friends are as much—if not more—a part of family as people you're just related to, and even enemies can be considered 'family;' their impact on your life shapes you as much as the influence of your friends and relations, and sometimes even more.

**Artemis**: And that impact's usually traveling at sonic speed... but we'll save that one for another day.

_(The author walks in from stage left, apparently imitating Tuxedo Kamen, sans cape and mask.)_

**Artemis**: What's with you?

**the Judge**: Believe it or not, I've got a date.

**Artemis**: Who with? _(Luna blushes and looks away for some reason, but Artemis fails to notice) _

**the Judge**: Somebody worth the effort. I might introduce you. At some point. _(Luna quickly trots off screen)_ Well, I have to go, or I'll be late. Thanks for filling in for Usagi.

**Artemis**: Anytime. _(the author leaves)_ That's weird; where'd Luna go?

14/05/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

And before you say it, no, I don't actually have a date with Luna. Mind you, I wouldn't complain if it actually happened. All that and looks, too... quite a girl... I mean, cat... I mean...

Where was I?

Oh yes. This one made quite the little foray into Kleenex territory towards the end, didn't it? That was at least semi-intentional; Sailor Moon was the first animated series that actually managed to inspire some deeply serious emotion in me. Even in dub, watching Naru bawl over Nephrite was _painful;_ I shudder to think of what that must have done to some of the Japanese viewers the first time the episode aired. And then there was the one where Usagi and Mamoru split up, and she goes and just _dies_ in that phonebooth... yikes.

Well, up next:  
-Some answers, but also some new questions;  
-The start of the obligatory 'power-up' part of the story—I know, I know, but whatcha gonna do about it?

I don't _think_ you'll need Kleenex for the next one, but if you found it necessary this time, it might be a good idea to lay in a store for future episodes.

And kudos to anyone who knows the joke about the rabbit. Ciao.


	8. Chapter 8

Ami and Ryo were sitting together on a cool, smooth slab of ancient Moon masonry, looking up at the stars. They were about as close as either of them was comfortable with, considering that Jupiter and Artemis were not far away, though perhaps not as close as they might have chosen, had they been alone. The other Senshi were out among the tiny brick hills and forests of ancient pillars; Jupiter leaned against a relatively upright column and occasionally asked questions of Artemis as she watched a different region of sky. Every so often, she glanced sidelong at her friends, or at the half-buried section of floor with its complex carving, from where Usagi and Luna had vanished and had yet to return.

"Ryo-kun," Ami asked, keeping her voice low so Jupiter wouldn't hear, "is something wrong? You've been quiet since we got here."

"Wrong? No, nothing's..." Ryo made the mistake of trying to look her in the face while he spoke; it was just too difficult for him to lie to those eyes. "Yes," he sighed, "there is."

"What?" Ami said, gently pushing for an answer. There was a long silence before she got it.

"It's this place," Ryo said at last. "I've seen it before. And not in a vision of the future. I never told you this, but I can remember what happened after Zoicite transformed me into that youma. A lot of that is what the thing was thinking or remembering while it fought you, and some of the clearest images were of this place. They weren't very pleasant," he said bleakly. "There were fires, explosions. People running out of burning buildings, running out into the streets, and then the swords find them, and..."

"It wasn't you," Ami said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I know that," Ryo sighed. "You know that. _They_ don't."

"They who? The other Senshi..."

"Not them. _Them._" Ryo motioned towards the broken buildings. "A lot of people died here, Ami, and even if _I_ wasn't responsible for it, I'm carrying around a piece of the thing that _was._ Bringing it here again, knowing that in spite of all the horrible things it did, this monster survived while all sorts of good people died... it feels like I'm spitting on their graves."

Ami sighed. Ryo was serious and a deep thinker; she liked that about him, but those traits occasionally led him down depressing avenues of thought. Once he got a gloomy notion in his head, it tended to stick and get progressively worse the more he thought about it. She could argue him into seeing sense, of course, but it would take awhile—and in this case, she wasn't entirely sure that arguing would help. She settled instead for giving his hand an affectionate squeeze, leaving it linked with her own. After several minutes, she realized that her free hand was tracing symbols on the back of Ryo's hand—very specific symbols.

*I'm probably the only girl in the world who writes out math equations on the back of her boyfriend's hand,* Ami thought wryly.

"You forgot to carry the three," Ryo said absently. Ami blinked, rechecked the formula in her mind, realized he was right, then growled and punched him in the shoulder. "What?" Ryo asked. "How is this _my_ fault?"

"It just is."

Ryo sighed dramatically, but he was smiling as he did so, and he gently squeezed Ami's hand in return. The ghosts didn't seem quite so oppressive now.

Behind them, unnoticed, the intricate stone carving began to glow, projecting a pale column of light.

As the light faded, Usagi opened her eyes. She was back to her normal, everyday self, as was Luna, nestled in the crook of her left arm. Usagi looked down, at her friend, at the fading symbol beneath her feet, and sighed. It was not an entirely unhappy sound.

*She called me Usagi.*

"Heads up," Jupiter said, having spotted the brief glow and the rematerialization of the two absentees. "They're back."

Artemis bounded up. "What happened, Luna?"

"There was a problem with security," Luna said. "And the Queen wanted to talk to Usagi privately for a few minutes."

"Oh. Everything's all right, then?"

"That depends," Luna replied, hopping down and looking around. "Where is everyone?"

"Off poking through what's left of the ruins and getting lost down memory lane, probably." Artemis shook his head. "ChibiMoon and Mars both kind of freaked when you disappeared."

"Kind of?" Jupiter snorted. "They wanted Saturn to break out the Silence Glaive and start blasting until we either found you or blew out the other side of the Moon trying."

"I'm glad you talked them out of it," Luna said. "Queen Serenity told us some of the defenses are still up and running; I don't think the computer would have appreciated having a tunnel blasted through it."

"Rei—Mars, I mean—didn't take to the idea of just waiting around very well," Ryo chuckled nervously. "And she _really_ didn't like the fact that I couldn't find out where you'd gone or when you'd get back. Venus dragged her off before she could set fire to anything; she was saying something about fools for the fire, but I didn't catch all of it."

"Be thankful for small blessings," Artemis told him wryly.

"Anyway," Ryo went on, "Pluto wanted to look around a bit and see if she could recognize anything, so Saturn offered to show her around; they took ChibiMoon with them."

"Saturn. Offered to show her around," Usagi repeated.

"Uh-huh. I heard a bit of what she was telling Pluto as they left," Artemis said. "She seemed to remember it pretty clearly."

"I thought so, too," Ami agreed. Looking in the direction of three sets of boot prints, she shook her head as if she had been about to say one thing, and instead said another. "Neptune and Uranus wandered off a little after that. I might be wrong, but Neptune seemed sad for some reason."

"Probably the oceans," Luna guessed with a sigh.

"What oceans?" Jupiter asked, confused.

"The oceans of the old Moon," Luna explained. "I'll admit that calling them 'oceans' is being generous, considering that they weren't that deep, but even the small ones were quite a bit larger than your average lake. They were destroyed with everything else in Metallia's attack, but this is the first time Neptune's been on the Moon since the Silver Millennium, and regardless of what her mind knows, her spirit sees this as a place where there should be water."

"There should be plants, too." They all looked at Jupiter, who had her eyes closed as she spoke. "Low rows of sunleaf bushes with their little gold flowers along the main roads, and silverbirch in the avenues and on the corners, shading the nightbloom vines and beds of firemoss that provided light at night, and when we moved into eclipse behind Earth. And the royal gardens, with plants from all over the system: star lilies from Venus; Martian dustblossom; Jovian stormseed, always trying to drift away on the currents no matter what we anchored them down with; even that one rosebush Endymion brought for your birthday, Serenity."

The second Jupiter finished speaking, Usagi felt a push from the corner of her mind where the Moon Princess usually seemed to reside. Maybe it was Jupiter's dreamy, half-remembered use of the old names, but the world seemed to change around her in an instant; instead of the ruined, dust-choked surface of a dead Moon, Usagi was standing in a vast, beautifully decorated chamber...

***MILLENNIALS***

The Great Hall of the palace was a grand and glittering place even on ordinary days. On days of state ceremony, it became even more so, and now it was filled with many people who were similarly great and glittering—or who believed they were—the lords and ladies of a dozen worlds, gathered to celebrate the day of her birth. The recent fashion among the ladies leaned heavily in the direction of bright silks and brighter jewels, as if to make the wearer outshine the stars themselves; the lords were similarly outfitted, if less brilliant than their ladies, the planets orbiting their respective stars.

She, the guest of honor, wore no such dress. While some of the ornate costumes were simply ridiculous, and others, rather beautiful, they were all on the showy side. And tradition—and Luna—had a very narrow tolerance for anything that was stylish, flashy, or even remotely 'improper.' Never mind that 'proper' dresses always took all the fun out of things; she was a Princess, she had to set an example, blah, blah, blah.

So she wore a more elaborate version of her customary day-to-day attire, the back of which was loosely gathered below the shoulders, and the front of which—thanks to some last-minute adjustments by one of her maids, when Luna wasn't looking—was perhaps a little lower and tighter than tradition would be comfortable with. It was a decent dress—and despite the silver necklace, it looked positively plain next to some of the designs making the rounds this night. Standing at the foot of the great staircase, greeting the nobles as they arrived and being forced to endure the sight of one stunning masterpiece of needle and thread and fabric after another, she sighed.

"It's not that bad a dress, Serenity," a nearby voice said, responding to the most recent in a series of envious sighs.

"Easy for you to say, Amma," the Princess retorted under her breath, glancing sidelong at her 'shadow' for the evening, the Lady Amalthea—and, more importantly, at the girl's choice of attire. Like most of her gowns, it was a vibrant green, close-fitting and without sleeves. Unlike most of her gowns, this one had slits in the skirt which showed off Amalthea's legs; and being a Jovian -which made her the tallest of the Princess's guards despite also being the youngest—she had quite a lot to show in that regard. There was a narrow neckline that divided the upper half of the gown—a neckline that, in all honesty, came much closer to being a waistline—giving Amalthea's other... assets... a similar degree of exposure as her legs. A belt of woven gold rode on her hips, while a matched necklace served as the collar with the dangerously important task of keeping the fabric of the front of the gown where it was supposed to be. From that same necklace, a cape of translucent green silk hung down to conceal—almost—her otherwise bare back, and emeralds flashed on her ears. "How in the name of the nine planets did you smuggle that outfit past Luna? She'd have a heart attack if she saw you."

"She was busy," Amalthea said with an indifferent shrug, gaining the undivided attention of a number of nearby lords in the process. "She had some objections to what Ishtar was planning to wear, so I snuck off and changed while they were arguing."

"So _that_ was what all the yelling was about," Serenity mused, recalling the tremendous racket somewhere down the hall which had given her maid the opportunity to fix the dress. "Was it really that bad? Ishtar's dress, I mean."

"Calling it a dress would be generous," Amalthea chuckled. "Ishtar said it was the customary form of attire for celebrations like this, but... well, you know how the Venusians are."

Serenity shook her head; the whole galaxy knew how the Venusians were. The tree-dwelling people of the second planet shared their world's reputation for great beauty, and they were undeniably one of the friendliest races—human or otherwise—known to exist, but they also had this little cultural quirk about 'excessive' amounts of clothing. It had to do with an article of their religion, a passage which said something about honesty and openness, and as with everything else they did, the Venusians had taken that concept to a good-natured extreme. Ishtar's mother was one of the planet's highest-ranking priestesses, and had raised her daughter to adhere to their religion's teachings with an almost militant fervor. Given that the rest of the galaxy tended to regard that particular religion as hedonistic, at best, Ishtar had caused more than her share of waves in the royal court.

And speaking of waves, one that had nothing to do with Ishtar was going through the assembled dignitaries at this moment, a ripple of turning heads and murmured words as the court herald struck his staff of office against the marble floor, clearing his throat to announce the late arrival of another guest. Some of the murmurs turned to muttering as the identity of the guest became obvious.

"Prince Endymion of Earth," the herald announced in a clear, neutral tone, the same tone in which he had proclaimed the arrival of every other guest this evening. "And escorts," the white-haired old man added, "Jadeite and Nephrite, of the Elite."

The crowd parted before the three Earthmen as they made their way to the stairs at the far end of the Hall, where Serenity and Amalthea stood; given the length of the Hall, the Princess had ample time to examine each of them.

If the ladies of the court were stars and the lords planets, then the two Elite were asteroids, their traditional uniforms devoid of any decoration beyond the blood-red stones on the shoulders of Nephrite's jacket. Their faces were equally austere, and though they remained looking forward, their eyes seemed to be everywhere at once, gauging the mood of the crowd for possible threats, noting potential routes through which danger might strike or be escaped. Both men were undeniably handsome, but their reputations—as individuals, as members of the highly trained, highly skilled Elite, and as Earthmen—made many of the women of the court look away when one of the two guardians glanced in their direction. Serenity hardly noticed the two warriors, but then, she only had eyes for the dark-haired man leading them.

It was no secret that many of the noble houses felt that a Prince of Earth had no business being anywhere near a Princess of the Moon, for Earth, the cradle of human civilization, the Blue Jewel of the planets whose beauty rivaled that of Venus, was also the only world where men still made war on other men. The soldiers of the Moon and the other planetary kingdoms had their share of battle, dealing with starfaring pirates, marauding alien beasts, and the occasional incursion by dark beings from the void between worlds, but such threats were a distant, uncommon occurrence. Violence and the death that went with it were little more than an unpleasant notion of history to most; on Earth, they were an almost daily reality.

Hence the broad-shouldered, silver-enameled black armor Endymion always wore, and the straight-backed, military bearing with which he carried both the weight of that armor and other, far heavier duties. Though his guards were not visibly armed, the Prince himself carried sufficient rank to be permitted to keep his weapon, and his hand never strayed far from the hilt. He was not the only armed man in the room; many of the lords also carried blades in one form or another, and there were the palace guardsmen stationed at regular points throughout the Hall, but Endymion's sword—a heavy-bladed, unadorned broadsword— made the jeweled daggers and light fencing swords favored by the noblemen appear like the gaudy toys they were. There was, moreover, a seriousness on his face and in his eyes—eyes that, at twenty, had seen things many gathered here could never begin to believe—which only his own guards and the oldest and most battle-hardened of the lunar soldiers could match. This Prince was a true warrior, and he took the responsibilities of his hereditary office very seriously.

Serenity supposed that was one of the things she loved about him. As if his eyes weren't enough on their own, or his face, or the way he moved...

The Princess realized she was staring and broke off, blushing. Still some distance away, Endymion nonetheless appeared to notice and smiled that knowing half-smile of his, the smile that made all the lines of worry fade, the smile that was reflected in his eyes, the smile that made her heart start to...

*He's doing it to me AGAIN!* Serenity screamed in silent frustration, glaring at her beloved Prince through her own smile of welcoming. Endymion merely lifted an eyebrow in response; it made her want to scream. Just once, _why_ couldn't she get some sign that _she_ had the same effect on _him_ that _he_ always had on _her?_

"Men show their feelings differently, dear one," her mother's voice said from her other side. "You just have to figure out what to look for." The Queen had descended the stairs in silence with her four guards while her daughter had been absorbed in watching the Prince. The dark-haired, dark-eyed Lady Vestia, Senshi of Mars—attired, as ever, in a very proper dress of fiery scarlet—was with her. Vestia frowned as she looked at Amalthea, but did not comment on her clothing, believing it improper to scold a fellow Senshi in public view; she'd do it later. There was still no sign of Ishtar—who was probably still fighting with Luna—or of Mercury, though she was very likely hidden somewhere in crowd; you never could tell, with Nereids, where one might decide to appear next.

This was not the first—nor the last—time that Queen Serenity had answered a question before her daughter could put it to words. It was a useful, if slightly annoying gift which the Queen possessed, and she put it to work on everyone. Serenity had wondered time and again if her mother was telepathic, or just very, very good at reading people. *And why,* the Princess added, glancing sidelong at her mother, *does _she_ get to wear whatever dress she chooses while _I_ get stuck wearing copies of the same old thing?*

"Privilege of rank," the Queen murmured. Knowing it would irritate her daughter, she smoothed a line from her gown; it was one of the variations on her own usual attire, this night, but that was completely by her own choice, not because of tradition or Luna.

Endymion and his escorts had reached the foot of the stairs before Serenity could think up a suitable retort. The Prince bowed, one hand holding the hilt of his sword steady while the other swept his trailing cape to one side; the two Elite saluted, right hands clenched over their hearts in the Earther style, before bowing in turn.

"Rise, and be welcome," Queen Serenity greeted the three men.

Endymion smiled. "Thank you, Your Majesty. My father sends his apologies for being unable to attend, but urgent matters at home required his personal attention." He turned to Serenity. "Greetings, Princess."

"Hello, En—I mean, Your Highness. Thank you for accepting our invitation."

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything." Endymion looked back as Nephrite coughed at that pronouncement; finding only a collected, questioning look on the long-haired Elite's face, the Prince narrowed his eyes suspiciously before he turned back to the ladies. As soon as his Prince's back was turned, Nephrite smiled crookedly. Amalthea smiled as well; Nephrite noticed, gave her a long, considering look, then winked. Beside him, Jadeite rolled his eyes.

They engaged in the customary small talk for several minutes, asking about the health of various individuals and the other harmless tidbits such discussions tend to include. Nephrite coughed at least three times during the exchange of meaningless pleasantries.

"My apologies," Vestia finally interrupted, "but is the good Elite coming down with something?"

"Only a severe case of heartbreak," Nephrite replied, "brought on by being in the presence of four such dazzling beauties."

Endymion drummed his fingers on the hilt of his weapon while he besought strength from someone beyond the ceiling. "No, my Lady, it's merely his clumsy way of reminding me that I haven't presented the Princess with her birthday gift yet. Jadeite, if you would?"

"Of course, My Prince." The blond Elite turned and nodded to a pair of palace servants who had trailed behind, carrying a light, wooden chest between them. As the pair stepped forward and opened the chest, Amalthea glanced at it in an odd way, her head tilted as if she were listening to something.

Serenity gasped as the servants lifted out the gift, a small but healthy-looking bush of blood-red blossoms against dark green leaves, set in a soil-filled pot of opaque crystal. Some of the gathered nobles dismissed the plant with a sniff and a triumphant smirk, knowing their presents had been far more costly, more worthy of a Princess than some simple Earthly weed. A few of the older nobles, however, including the Queen, were looking at the Prince and the flowers in amazement.

"They're beautiful," Serenity said earnestly, "but I've never seen flowers like that before. Amma?" she asked, turning to her friend, whose knowledge of plants was unmatched.

Amalthea took a quick look around before answering; half the court was listening. "They're roses, Serenity."

The silence was absolute. "Impossible," one young lord muttered, astonished.

Amalthea glared at him. "Are you calling me a liar, sir?"

"No," the lord said hastily, waving his hands, "but... that is... what I mean to say is... roses?" he finished weakly.

"Roses," Amalthea said firmly.

The young lord's shock was somewhat understandable. The rose had long been one of the ultimate symbols of love; in the modern culture, there was no stronger declaration of devotion. But roses did not grow on the Moon. For some reason, the plants grew only on Earth, defying even the most magical attempts to transplant them to other worlds. Obtaining even a few roses was a difficult and expensive undertaking, and they did not travel well, so the great lovers of the other worlds made do with other species of plants, and sometimes gems carved into the likeness of the fabled flower. Everyone knew of the rose, had seen pictures or carvings or even the occasional rare, half-wilted specimen, but none of these could truly compare with the sight of a living rose. Serenity extended one hand in wonder, brushing the soft petals of the plant.

"Ouch!"

"Be careful of the thorns," Endymion said, a second too late, grimacing ruefully.

"Very typical of Earth," another young lord drawled in a high, superior voice. "Even the most beautiful things there can't seem to get along without drawing blood."

Forgetting for the moment that he was not armed, Jadeite's hand went to his hip, in search of a sword that was not there.

"Calm yourself, Jadeite," Endymion said softly, turning to face the nobleman. "You find fault with my choice of a gift, sir?"

"Not the gift itself," the man replied smoothly, "but how it was given. A single rose is a thing of rare beauty, and two or three together are a wonder, but this many at once is pretentious, at best, good Prince. A simple bouquet would have served the same purpose, and without this admittedly mild injury to Her Highness."

"Ah, but to create such a bouquet, I would have been forced to kill several of the most beautiful blossoms; I know you consider we of Earth to be somewhat barbarous, but really, my Lord, even we have our limits. After all, if you kill everything one day, what will be left for tomorrow?" There were a few chuckles as Endymion went on. "The rose is considered a symbol of love because it is the color of the heart, and of the blood that flows through it. Perhaps, my Lord, you've heard the old superstition that the rose, being the color of blood, needs blood to live? That it can only grow on Earth because our world is the only one whose fields have paid the price for this beauty?"

"I had not heard that," the man admitted.

"Then your day has not been a total loss; you've learned something new." There was more muted laughter. "I chose to present her Highness with a living rosebush rather than dead and withering blossoms, hoping that the flower might, for once, grow outside its normal bounds. The unfortunate injury to her person was unexpected, but if it bothers you so much..."

Nobody was quite prepared to see Endymion draw a silver-bladed dagger from somewhere on his person, slash it across his own palm, and then clench the wounded hand into a fist, squeezing several large drops of blood onto the rosebush and the dirt beneath.

"There," the Prince said, driving the small dagger into the soil to clean away the blood before sheathing it. "The injury to the Princess has been repaid tenfold." He smiled faintly at Serenity. "Perhaps the flowers will grow, now that their price has been paid."

***MILLENNIALS***

Usagi came back to the present in a blur and a blink. She remembered that she had ordered the rosebush planted, pot and all, in the section of the royal gardens nearest her quarters. She also recalled sneaking out that same night, accompanied by Ishtar—who had eventually shown up at the party in her traditional Venusian 'dress,' despite all of Luna's objections—on a quiet mission. With a little help from her love-fostering ally and a small, sharp knife, the Princess had added a few drops of her own blood to the dark Earthly soil around the roses; her Prince had done this for her, and she could do no less for him. And it seemed to have worked; from that day until the day when Metallia had arisen and destroyed everything, the solitary rosebush in the royal gardens had grown and bloomed, the only one of its kind off of Earth.

"Usagi?" Mercury—no, Ami—asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just sort of remembered that rosebush Jupiter was just talking about. Vividly."

"Yeah," Jupiter said. "I know what you mean. I don't usually get lost in my own mind that easily. What gives?"

"It's the sun." Artemis shrugged. "When you're living on a world where 'dawn' lasts upwards of thirty regular hours, and where night falls one day and doesn't leave for the better part of the next month... suffice to say, it gets to you after a while. Even ten centuries later."

"So a thousand years of interplanetary peace was due to a chronic combination case of sunstroke and oversleeping," Ryo mused. "I've heard worse ideas."

Jupiter chuckled. "Speaking of interplanetary peace, we'd better call the others back if we want to maintain it."

While Jupiter sent out that call, Usagi looked at Ryo and Ami. "And what was so fascinating that you two didn't notice me appear out of thin air right behind you?"

Usagi expected one or both of them to blush and blurt out a denial that anything had been going on, especially in light of the fact that they were still holding hands. Ryo's quiet explanation of the unsettling feeling that had been dogging him since their arrival startled her, and Usagi looked down at Luna.

"What?" Ami asked, catching the look.

Usagi sighed and repeated what Queen Serenity had told her about the computer's reaction to Ryo. "But it's all taken care of," she finished reassuringly.

"Well, good." Ryo couldn't avoid making a quick sweep of the area with his eyes, just to be certain there weren't any... he admitted that he had no idea _what_ these so-called 'defenses' looked like, but he suspected he'd know one if he saw it. And he didn't know or see one, so he relaxed—a little—wondering if the sense of oppression had been caused by the attention of this subterranean computer rather than a guilty conscience. "Do you think maybe you could leave that part out of whatever you tell the others?"

Usagi blinked. "Why?"

"It's not really that important, is it? And besides," Ryo added, "I'd sort of rather not let Neptune and Uranus know that I used to be one of the bad guys. Not that I don't trust them," he said quickly, "it's just that... um... well, they're a little..."

"Intimidating?" Luna asked.

"Scary?" Usagi supplied.

"Driven?" Ami prompted.

"Obsessive?" Jupiter suggested, earning a few sidelong glances from her friends which suggested that _she_ was hardly in a position to call other people 'obsessive.'

"Implacable?" Artemis finished, earning a few glances of his own; since when did _he_ even know what words that large meant?

Ryo was nodding. "Exactly."

"Not a problem," Usagi said. "But if you happen to get that nervous feeling again, let us know, okay?"

Ryo nodded.

"Good." Usagi looked out into the ruins. "There they are," she said, waving at the other Senshi as they returned. She flinched at their reply, seven voices shouting four words in unison:

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

***MILLENNIALS***

Once Mars and ChibiMoon had been calmed down, Usagi explained her brief trip, omitting only the details of Luna's brief transformation and, as requested, what Serenity had said about Ryo.

"So it worked?" ChibiMoon asked.

Usagi nodded. "Oh, and Ami, your computer won't give you any more problems; Mother unlocked the security codes for it, and..." Usagi trailed off. "How did I know that, Luna?"

"Do you remember what the Queen said about examining your thoughts while we were in the beam? She could also use it to send information directly into your mind, much more quickly and completely than telling you the old-fashioned way."

"Oh. That makes sense." Usagi thought it over and realized that Luna was right; there was a great deal of information in her head all of a sudden, silent lessons and instructions from Queen Serenity, months of study imparted in a few seconds. She grinned. "That's a handy sort of trick. Do you suppose we can come back right before exams?"

Luna facefaulted.

"Did she... say anything else?" Pluto asked quietly.

Usagi's grin died. Pluto had been looking at the carved symbol on the floor with a fixed, almost hungry intensity ever since Usagi mentioned what Serenity had done for Luna and herself, and it didn't take someone with Ami's or Neptune's intellect to figure out why.

"I'm sorry, Setsuna," Usagi said. "She can't help you."

Pluto looked at her for a moment, something indecipherable in her eyes. Then she sighed and nodded.

Uranus cleared her throat, dispelling some of the awkwardness of the moment. "I guess we can leave, then."

"Not just yet," Usagi disagreed, the implanted information tugging at her thoughts. "There's something else we need to do. This way."

The Senshi exchanged glances as they followed their leader into a different part of the ruins. When Usagi stopped, they were standing in front of a fire-blackened pile of stones, with the shattered bases of two columns to each side. Pieces of displaced floor tile poked up out of the dust. Again, as they looked at the tumbled ruin, there was a sense of recognition.

"We need to clear some of this out," Usagi said.

"I've got it." Saturn stepped up, raising her Glaive. "Everybody give me some room, okay? This might be a little imprecise."

"Don't do anything foolish," Neptune told her immediately. Saturn smiled, nodding as the others backed up a few steps. Then she lowered the head of the Glaive until it was almost touching the rubble, closed her eyes, and began.

There was no light show, no chanted words; only Saturn's intense expression of concentration and the faint, violet-dark glow of the Silence Glaive indicated that anything was happening. After a moment, however, the pile of shattered stone was noticeably less than it had been—and it was getting smaller. No fuss, no noise; just the steady disintegration of the thousand year- old debris. And as the old stones vanished, a surprisingly intact stairwell was revealed beneath them.

Saturn jumped slightly as the remaining stones, deprived of the supporting weight of their now-vanished neighbors, collapsed into that stairwell with a loud clatter and a spray of dust. Its mistress's concentration broken, the violet light of the Glaive flickered and then faded away.

"Thank you, Saturn," Usagi said. "Uranus, would you please clear away the dust? The chamber below has been sealed since Metallia's attack; the air is bound to be bad after so long."

Uranus arched an eyebrow but did as she was asked, holding one hand in the air, palm forward and fingers slightly curled. Concentrating as Saturn had concentrated, she slowly drew that arm back, her fingers wobbling as if they were trying very hard to hold onto something. A great plume of dust erupted from the mouth of the stairs and flew high into the bubble of artificial atmosphere, spreading out to fall in a wide ring about the Senshi. After the dust came a low whistle of rushing air and a stale, musty odor.

It never occurred to her to wonder at how she knew how to manipulate her power like this; the strange, half-remembered nature of this place had filled her mind—all their minds—with whispers and faded images of how things used to be. The part of Uranus that was Tennou Haruka had no idea how to call wind like this, but the part of her which had lived and died such a very long time ago knew exactly what was happening, and why, and how. Uranus suspected that she could have asked it for an explanation, but she chose not to; as long as somebody she could trust understood what was going on, that was enough.

While the others were still watching the dust fall, Uranus suddenly reversed the original motion, driving her arm forward as if pushing something. With the change in motion by her hand, there came a blast of wind from all sides, a wall of air which ruffled hair and clothes alike as it contracted in on itself before shooting down into the stairwell and whatever lay below. The breeze continued until Uranus relaxed and let her arm fall.

"Thank you, Uranus. All of you, follow me."

They followed, and without comment or complaint; Usagi's voice and manner were slightly more formal than usual, suggesting that perhaps her Princess self was speaking.

The stairs led down at a steady angle, each large enough for two rows of three people to stand on and still have room; Mars and Jupiter followed just behind Usagi and the cats, with Ami, Ryo, and Pluto next, and then Uranus and Neptune. Venus and Saturn brought up the rear.

Crystal globes set into the walls began to glow with faint blue light as Usagi passed. The crystals—perhaps a little too large to hold easily in one hand if they were removed from the walls—were fixed into the marble at about eye level; some were shattered, and others flickered feebly, but there was still more than enough light to see by.

Not that there was much to see. The walls, steps, and ceiling were all made of the same smooth marble, heavy and unadorned and with no sign of cutting or separation; it was as if the entire place were a single piece of stone. Aside from the glowing gems, placed above every third step, the only breaks in the monotony were jagged cracks and the occasional pile of dust. Not the most reassuring sight when you're somewhere underground and going deeper, but the further they went, the less apparent the damage became.

Most of the Senshi started counting steps; the cats didn't, since they already knew how many there would be, while Venus confused the actual number of stairs with the steps she was taking, and was well past one hundred before she realized her mistake and gave up. The others quit after fifty or so, but Ami and Neptune both kept at it and got eighty-one when they reached the bottom. And with each stair wide enough that it took two or three steps to reach the next, that put them quite a ways down.

The chamber here was much like the stairs, but it actually held things. A massive set of bronze double doors was set into the far wall, with the crescent insignia of the Moon Kingdom as their only adornment; there weren't even any locks or handles. Two marble statues flanked the doors, imposing, slightly larger than life-sized warriors in full plate mail, with crescent-marked shields in their left hands and long pikes in their right. Six identical statues stood at regular intervals along the walls, one on either side of the arch through which the Senshi now entered, the other four where they would have also flanked doors, had any existed in the side walls.

"I'd hate to have to fight this bunch," Jupiter said slowly.

"Palace guards," Luna identified the statues as Usagi walked towards the doors. "Or at least, statues of them. And if you don't keep quiet, Jupiter, you _will_ have to fight them."

Jupiter was about to protest that statement when they all heard the grating slither of stone sliding against stone, looked up, and saw the stone helms of the two statues turning towards Usagi. A muffled yelp from Saturn indicated that the statues behind them were showing a similar degree of animation.

"No one move!" Luna hissed, even as most of the group got ready for a fight. "Just stand still and wait!"

Usagi was saying something in that hauntingly familiar tongue the other humans couldn't quite recall. It was a very musical language, all the words flowing into one another; none of it made any sense, but it appeared to satisfy the statues. Eight male voices—it was hard to tell whether they were different voices which sounded somewhat alike, or if just one voice was speaking from eight different locations—said something back in a united chant before the assorted helmets rotated back to their original positions.

As the booming echoes of the stone voices faded, the doors opened soundlessly, each sliding back along the wall behind one of the statues. The chamber beyond was much larger and far more interesting than this guard chamber; pillars taller than Uranus and Jupiter and Pluto combined held up the high roof, while the walls were covered with intricate carvings of marble, gold, and crystal.

As the Senshi walked into the room, their eyes were drawn to its main feature; atop a dais at the far end stood a statue of a woman in a flowing gown, a woman whose features, though not identical, were immediately recognizable as being kin to Usagi and ChibiMoon. Her hair, despite being stone, was the same style, the tails hanging down almost to the floor. Angelic wings of marble spread from her back, each wing almost as long as the statue was tall, their tips nearly touching the walls. A crown which somehow managed to give the appearance of being light even when fashioned from marble rested on the woman's head; she held a stone scepter in her left hand, and a marble chalice which reminded them all of the vanished Grail in her right. The stone double of a familiar crystal was fixed over her heart, and her face was at once stern and gentle. At her feet, a gold stand held up a large book made not of stone, but of ancient leather and paper—or perhaps parchment. It was closed, a wide, heavy band of what appeared to be silver folded over and around the cover. And in the dais before both book and statue was a stone sword, life-sized, perhaps half the length of its blade driven into the floor.

"Serenity the First," Artemis said, sounding almost reverent. "The founder of the Moon Kingdom and architect of the Silver Millennium."

"Just how many of them were there, anyway?" Uranus asked. "With the name Serenity, I mean?"

"Twenty-nine, counting the one we know now as Usagi," Luna replied. "A line unbroken from mother to daughter for over fourteen hundred years."

"You'd think," Ryo noted clinically, "that in all that time, they'd have changed the hair at least once."

Ami, still looking up at the statue, elbowed him in the ribs.

"I don't get it," Jupiter said. "Why all the security for a statue, a sword, and a book?"

"There's something else here." Mars had her eyes half-closed, her hands slightly raised as if to feel the air around her. "Not just a statue, a sword, and a..." She broke off suddenly, opening her eyes all the way to stare at the book.

The book from her dream, the book that had been made of fire and lightning. Usagi was reaching for it. Mars didn't even stop to think.

"Usagi! Don't touch it!" Usagi—or was it Serenity just then?—turned, startled, as Mars raced up and pulled her away from the silver-bound book.

"Mars," Luna demanded, "what are you doing?"

"It's all right, Luna." Usagi looked back to Mars. "You saw it, didn't you?"

"I had a dream," Mars replied uneasily, still not entirely certain who she was addressing. "The night of the storm. I saw myself reading a book of fire."

Usagi smiled. "I thought it might be you, Rei," she said softly, touching one hand to her friend's face before turning back to the sealed book. "Can you read the words on the cover?"

Recalling the dream-fire that had threatened to destroy her eyes and her mind if she read so much as a letter, it took a moment before Mars could bring herself to examine the book. The 'words' were a series of very peculiar symbols which seemed to change as she looked at them. This is not to say that they moved around, or grew lighter or darker, or experienced any physical change at all; rather, parts of the various marks would begin to seem very similar to forms of writing she was familiar with: Japanese kanji here, here, and over there; Romanic letters here and here; something which might have been an Egyptian hieroglyph, here. And quite suddenly, she realized that she could understand some of it.

She said a very long word—or perhaps several words—in the same language Usagi had used a moment before, then frowned. "I think that means 'the Book of Ages.'"

"And a few other things besides, but that will do." Usagi picked up the book. "It's called that because it's been around for a very long time, though nobody was ever really sure just how old. It contains information on life and magic and science, past and present and future, all of it interwoven together so that you can—supposedly—find the answer to any question. IF you look closely enough."

"Sort of like a User's Manual to the Universe?" Ryo suggested.

"Only written in a foreign language," Usagi added. "A very difficult, magical one. If you can read the language and are patient enough to untangle the other defensive powers of the Book, it can tell you anything: the cure for cancer, the secret of cold fusion, even how to program a VCR." She smiled faintly.

"And the catch?" Uranus asked immediately.

"The catch," Usagi replied, "is that the Book is, despite all its defenses, still just a book. It only contains the secrets; it does not dictate who will find them. Once the information is out, it is up to humans to decide whether to use it for good or evil. In the hands of a good person who could read it, the Book could literally save the world; in the hands of an evil person, it would become a terrible instrument of darkness. So it was sealed away down here, and only consulted in times of the most urgent need. To minimize the risk, no one person was ever entrusted with sole guardianship. Until now." And with that, she extended her arms, holding the Book out to Mars.

"Keep that thing away from me," Mars said, backing up a step.

"It won't hurt you, Mars." Usagi took a step forward. "And we'll need its help before this is all over."

"So? Just open it now and find what you want so we can get out of here."

"It's not that simple. Even if we didn't need the Book, it still has to be kept safe, and the defenses here are just too weak to do that anymore; we have to take it with us."

"Then give it to Ami," Mars said, backing up again. "Or Neptune."

"It has to go with you," Usagi insisted. "Mars, look at the Book. At the lock. What do you see?"

Mars looked, and frowned. The silver band was solid and unbroken, with no sign of catches or releases or keyholes. "That doesn't make any sense," she objected. "How are we supposed to get it open if the lock's all one piece?"

"I don't know," Usagi admitted. "Once the Book is locked, only someone who can read its language can open it again—and the language on the cover changes every time the thing is sealed, so even those who can read what's _inside_ can't open it. Nobody knows why, let alone how, but there are a few people born in every generation who can read the cover, who can read the Book no matter what condition it or they are in; you're one of them, and you're a Senshi. Even if we _could_ find someone else who could read the Book, how could we be sure that we could trust them with it? How would they protect it if someone or something came looking for it? Rei," Usagi said, her voice dropping to just above a whisper, "if _I_ can understand how important this is, I know you must realize it, too. Why won't you just take the Book?"

Mars hesitated. "If I do take it," she whispered softly, not meeting Usagi's gaze, "I'll have to protect it. And that means I won't be able to protect _you._"

Usagi smiled. "So protect me, then: take the Book, figure out how to get it open so we can find out what we need to know, _find_ what we need to know, and don't let anyone take it and misuse it." She reached out again and turned Mars' face towards her. "Rei, any one of you can fight off monsters; _you're_ the only one who can read the Book."

They looked at each other for a long time. Then Mars put out her hands and mutely accepted the Book. Despite the fact that it was larger than a telephone directory, it felt very light.

"Is that it?" Uranus asked impatiently, earning a swat to the back of the head from Neptune.

"No," Usagi replied, turning back to the statue of her ancestor and placing both hands on the hilt of the stone sword in front of it and pulling up. The sword moved perhaps an inch before she had to let it go. "Jupiter," she said, "I need some help with this."

"Sure." Jupiter took hold of the grip, one-handed, and pulled, grunting in surprise as the full weight of the sword became evident. In its resting position, the weapon had extended about three feet up from the top of the dais, and almost half that length was taken up by the grip and the hilt; once Jupiter had pulled it free, the thing was revealed in its full glory, five feet from the tip of the broad blade to the crescent-inscribed pommel. Larger crescents adorned the crossguard, which itself curved slightly towards the double-edged blade; a trail of the symbols Luna had identified as 'the Silver Script' ran the length of the stone blade, which gleamed no less brightly than it would have had it been made of metal.

Uranus whistled appreciatively. "Nice sword."

"Gladius," Artemis told them. "The traditional weapon of the captain of the royal guards. The stone it's made from is harder than diamond, and magic insures that the blade stays sharp and whole, no matter how much punishment it takes." He glanced at Usagi. "You're sure you want to bring it with us?"

"It's probably not a bad idea," Luna said. "Anybody who can build a mana nexus could probably analyze the sword if they ever got their hands on it. These fungus-creatures have been a problem, but I'd rather worry about them than the possibility of having to face an army of creatures made from nearly indestructible stone."

"Amen to that," Artemis agreed fervently. "Is that everything, then?"

Usagi nodded. "The armories were all destroyed in Metallia's attack; of what's left, these and the computer are the only things that could be dangerous. And anything that tries to go after the computer will have to get through about three miles of solid rock _and_ Mother to reach it."

"Then I guess it's time to go," Venus said, looking around and sighing. The others nodded, their faces showing the same reluctance to leave even as they formed the circle.

Just as the world began to disappear into the flash of light, Usagi looked up at the face of her long-dead ancestor. It was strange, but in the bright light, the statue seemed to be smiling.

***MILLENNIALS***

The darkened monitoring room now had upwards of a dozen men and women in and around it, all of them checking connections, evaluating readouts, and comparing records in an attempt to figure out what had happened. Their city-wide detection network, designed to track and trace the weird energy involved in the movements of these equally weird creatures, was still in its early infancy. Not all of the bugs had been shaken out of the system, and the last thing it had needed was a sudden, over-the-top surge of energy.

But that was what the system had gotten, and now half of its component computers and detection devices had been left shorted out by the overload. Now they faced the unenviable task of determining what still worked, what had to be replaced, and what could just be given a swift kick to get it up and running again.

The second surge neatly solved that imbalance; by the time it had passed, _all_ the detection systems were fried.

After the alarms had shut down or blown themselves out, the man whose office earned him the title of Monitor Six checked the second readout and compared it with the first.

"Well?" one of the others asked.

"Looks like the same group of signals, with a couple of extra passengers. Some sort of return trip, I'd guess."

"Any idea where they were headed?"

Monitor Six checked a different readout, one of the few still functioning properly. "Looks like somewhere in the Juuban district, but the system can't narrow it down any further; too many sensors are out in that area from the original surge."

"What about the point of origin?"

"Just a sec... we got a partial trajectory reading from sector eight before the whole array crashed... looks like..." Monitor Six blinked.

"Well? Where did it come from?"

"The network's long-range capacity is pretty limited, but based on that trajectory, the nearest possible point of origin is... the Moon."

There was a long silence, in which several of the people in the room looked at each other. Finally, one of them spoke.

"Get the Director."

***MILLENNIALS***

Archon's head snapped up at the same instant as his apprentice felt the unfamiliar ripple of power. It was not precisely the same as before, carrying with it a sense of something that was steadily drawing closer, and it was somehow larger than the first time, but she was certain it was the work of the same individual or group.

"You were wise to summon me," Archon congratulated the girl, referring to her decision to invoke her teacher's awareness and half-real image following the original disturbance. "That was most definitely not something I or any other Atlantean was responsible for."

"What was it?"

"A teleportation magic of some sort," the master mage replied, narrowing his eyes as he looked off in the direction from which the power had seemed to originate. "I am too far from you to be certain who or how many were involved, but there is something about it... something familiar... I will have to consult my records and compare them with the watcher's analysis before I can be certain of anything." After another moment of consideration, Archon shook his head. "No matter. How proceeds your work, apprentice?"

The girl demonstrated by calling up a three-dimensional image of the city in the air between them. It was, of necessity, a small image, with even the largest clusters of skyscrapers reduced to shapes smaller than her own littlest finger, but she knew that with a word and a gesture, she could zoom in on any given area of the illusory map and see a clear and precise image. It was not just a picture conjured up from her own memory or imagination, but an exact duplication of every building, street, object, and person in Tokyo, accurate down to the smallest possible detail. If she were to zoom in on her own room, she would find images of herself and Archon within the larger illusion.

"Excellent," Archon remarked. The illusion of his body tested her illusion of the city with one of its hazy fingers, nodding in approval when the clash of energies did not distort the map in any way. He floated to a different area, tested it a second time, and again nodded mutely. "Most impressive. And the tracking spell?"

She arranged her thoughts, spoke a few syllables in the complex Atlantean tongue, then released the magic with a negligible nod of her head. This was something Archon had been insistent on; while it was true that magic tended to involve a gestures as an aid to concentration, a clever wizard would always look into developing alternate forms of common spells, ones which did not require the drawn-out and obvious twisting of fingers. It improved the chances of working magic while remaining anonymous to the world at large—and anonymity was, for her, a most important asset.

The spell complete, the floating map glowed brightly, then began to change as the point of view moved in. Vague blotches of color became recognizable as city blocks, which in turn became clear enough for individual buildings to be picked out, which in turn grew large enough for specific windows and the like to be discerned. The map had been reduced to the image of a single apartment complex, but before it could zoom in further, the entire thing shattered, sending shards of light raining out in all directions to fade away in mid-air.

"I still can't get it to focus on her," the girl said, halfway between exasperation and anger.

"Patience, my dear. As you surmised before, the one you are attempting to target with your magic is under some form of protection. I have seen such things before; with time and practice, you will eventually be able to breach that defense, whatever its nature."

"You mean you don't know what it might be?"

"On the contrary; I know of nearly a hundred possibilities. But this is _your_ vendetta, apprentice, and any interference by my hand will only lessen your enjoyment when it is finally realized. And I would hate to deprive you of that particular pleasure." Archon smiled, a chilling smile which somehow reassured the girl before him.

"I appreciate that."

"I thought you might. Take heart," Archon added. "Simply because you are unable to reveal your enemy by magic does not mean that your more powerful or indirect spells will also be foiled." The girl looked up sharply, but Archon acted as if he had not noticed. "I fear I must leave you now, apprentice. My own duties call. Until our next lesson."

As his image faded, Archon smiled inwardly. In his long years of studying magic and training students, he had learned to judge those he worked with. He had no idea who this girl was, or what she had done to earn such tremendous enmity from his student—she hadn't even told him the name, and he hadn't asked—but seldom in his life had he seen such a degree of loathing in a single person. His apprentice would seize any chance to strike at the object of her spite—and his seemingly casual mention of indirect spells was just such an opportunity.

*Time to see how she handles the feel of blood on her hands,* Archon decided as his awareness raced back across the miles to Atlantis. *If she succeeds in this, I think she will be ready to be presented before the Lords.*

One innocent, unknown life, in exchange for the rise of another to power and importance.

In Archon's mind, a fair bargain.

***MILLENNIALS***

Proteus was a little better prepared for the second overload than others. Either that, or the destruction of its more sensitive and outlying receptors had the effect of blunting the amount of power it picked up on, thus sparing the remaining portion of its substance a similar experience.

It gritted its equivalent of teeth, tensed every last molecule of itself, and withstood the surge of energy with only minimal additional damage. Then it went to work in an attempt to repair itself.

Surveying the extent of the damage, Proteus was forced to admit it had found a serious weakness in itself. While its mind had continued to expand from the half-aware program of its origin, its physical substance remained as primitive now as it had been upon its arrival. There was simply more of it, and as the damage from the energy surge proved, more was not always better.

Study of information gained from the humans and their machines had explained the nature of evolution to Proteus, and it understood that it was in many respects an endangered... perhaps not a species, but most certainly an endangered form of life. If it were to survive, then inevitably, it would have to change.

The arrival of the new units at the trap sites gave it some most excellent basis material on what it might evolve into, and the entity's ongoing study of science and magic could easily provide the 'how' of that evolution. The 'why' had already been proven, which left only when, and where.

*And perhaps,* Proteus thought in a flash of inspiration, *'who.'*

***MILLENNIALS***

While Makoto and Setsuna prepared dinner, the others listened as Rei recounted her dream from the night of the blizzard. She included the fairy-tale opening, but left out the disturbing search through the boxes at the end; somehow, that part felt intensely personal, and Rei knew it would be a while yet before she could talk about it with anyone, even Usagi.

More than once as they ate, the question of what to do with Gladius came up. The Book was no problem—it would fit right in with all the scrolls and sacred texts at Hikawa—but a five-foot stone broadsword would definitely attract some comment. Nor was it just something they could stuff in a back closet somewhere and forget about. As Luna and Artemis explained, Gladius had certain... quirks. Much like Usagi's crystal, the stone sword possessed a sort of awareness; nothing so complex or powerful as the ginzuishou, of course, but it was still there. Given the right conditions, it was entirely possible that the thing might 'wake up' and go off on its own. Only Usagi and the two cats had any idea of how to deal with such a development, and since there was simply too much traffic in the Tsukino household to hide something the size of the sword for very long, it went to Minako by default.

"What am _I_ supposed to do with this thing?" she protested. "I can barely lift it!" That was true. As Venus—or Sailor V—she could carry the massive weapon without too much trouble, but plain old Minako did not have the magical strength of her alter egos.

"Just keep it somewhere out of sight," Usagi told her. "But not so far that Artemis can't get to it if it starts doing something weird."

"And how do you suggest I get it home in the first place?"

"Wait about half an hour," Makoto suggested. "It'll be dark enough by then that you can leave as Venus."

Minako gave Makoto a wounded look. "I'm _terribly_ disappointed in you, Mako-chan." She sighed dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. "Fine, I give up, I'll take the stupid sword. But I want one thing clear right now; if anything goes wrong, it is _not_ my fault. Got it?"

"Sure," Usagi agreed. "Just blame Artemis."

"Hey!"

"Oh," Usagi added, ignoring the indignant white cat, "don't cut yourself on the blade, either; the stone's poisonous if it gets into your bloodstream."

Minako looked at the sword, then somehow managed to glare at Usagi and the two cats together. "Got any other good news you wanted to share with me?"

For a moment, Usagi was tempted to start telling Minako about herself—her old self, Ishtar. Then she thought better of it; some of what she remembered about the Venusian incarnation of her friend was amusing, but there was always the chance that once Minako knew, she might start to act like her old self. Something like this had happened to Usagi after Serenity had been reawakened, little bits of Princessly behavior slipping across the gaps of time and space and spirit to change Usagi, so it was very likely that the same could hold true for any of the others.

Life and Minako both were crazy enough already without setting Ishtar—or anyone else from the past—loose again.

***MILLENNIALS***

After Archon's disappearance, she had wasted no time in setting up for a summoning ritual.

It was a much longer rite than the original one which had backfired and brought Archon to her. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that the original summoning had been much shorter; the spell she was weaving now had the correct intonations and commands, the proper gestures to insure her total control over what would eventually manifest itself, whereas her first attempt had been a dangerous and nearly disastrous failure.

Then too, there were differences in her objective. That first attempt had been made when she was angry, so driven to see HER suffer, but also so consumed by her emotions that the specific details of the magic had escaped her. The creature unleashed by such a spell would have struck fast, and struck to kill; that, she now realized, would have been too easy.

No, tonight's endeavor was an experiment. A test, to examine her own control over the magic, and the limitations imposed upon it by whatever unnamed force was protecting HER. The creature she called tonight would not be as powerful as the first one, and it would be very tightly bound. Tonight, her goal was fear—that, and a little bit of pain.

The sun had gone down by the time she was done, which only seemed appropriate as the magic took shape within the warding circle. The patch of floor within the slender silver chain she had laid out grew dark and distorted before seeming to vanish altogether; what was left behind was not a hole—for a hole in the floor would have revealed the apartment below hers—but rather, a breach. An impossibility in the order of the natural world, given shape by magic to form one end of what could, in a certain sense, be considered a tunnel. A tunnel from the familiar, visible world to a world unseen, a world infinitely far away and at the same time, impossibly close to this one. It was an evil, alien place, hostile to all things not of itself, cruel and destructive beyond human understanding of the words.

And now something from that place was coming through.

It was, in a word, dark. No definite physical substance or shape, only a patch of shifting blackness which radiated a cold aura of awareness. A shiver ran through her as the edge of that awareness brushed against her own mind and the defenses surrounding it, pushing at the chains of magic which bound it, searching for a weakness that could earn freedom—and finding no such break. The spell was complete; the creature withdrew its probe, knowing it must serve.

-Why do you call me?—The voice was disembodied, every bit as chilling as the touch of this being's mind, but instead of fear, it provoked a small thrill of satisfaction. Dark and otherworldly and dangerous it might be—but it was hers to command.

"I have a little job for you."

***MILLENNIALS***

Hotaru looked up from the television screen, feeling a sudden chill wash over her. It was, she realized with a flash of worry, a very familiar sensation, something she had experienced both directly and indirectly, something she had prayed desperately would never happen again. The first time had been a simple mistake; the last, a deliberate catastrophe. And in between, dozens of intentional mistakes. None of it should ever have happened, but it had. And now it felt like it was about to happen again.

Someone had unleashed a daimon.

Old, bad memories drifted out of the shadows of her mind. The accident in her father's lab... pain, followed by a brief, peaceful nothingness, then a kind of light that was somehow dark, and a voice so incredibly cold... and then, years of existence that were not really living, forced to share her body with the thing that had killed her and then brought her back. Day by day, she had seen her father and his assistants gradually twisted into dark mockeries of the good people they had been, their work perverted and used to create hideous, unnatural things. Each night, she had dreamed dreams that were not her own and then woken up screaming when she saw the world die and heard a part of herself laughing, rejoicing in the death, the cold, the Silence...

"Ami! Get your computer out, now!"

Everyone in the room blinked and then stared. "What..." Michiru started to say.

"DO IT!" Hotaru screamed.

Ami hesitated a moment longer, partly out of shock, partly because she remembered her failed attempt to transform and wondered if it also applied to accessing her computer. Then she reached into that other place where the computer went when she wasn't using it... and drew it out. The little device was scanning the instant she flipped it open, and before she had a chance to ask Hotaru what was going on, the computer's powerful sensors picked up something. Something which set off a warning alarm and returned a readout Ami hadn't seen in almost two years.

"It's a... I'm reading... there's a daimon out there."

"That's impossible," Haruka said flatly.

"Isn't it?" ChibiUsa added nervously. "I mean, Mistress Nine, the Pharaoh 90... they're dead, aren't they? Luna? Artemis?"

"I know _I_ sure thought so," Artemis mumbled. "Luna?"

Luna didn't answer for a moment. Something unpleasant was pushing forward from her refreshed memories. "It... it might just be another monster... but..."

"Whatever it is," Ami interrupted, "it's getting closer."

"Not for long," Hotaru said darkly. She was across the room and halfway out the door before she even started to transform.

"Hotaru!" Michiru shouted. "What are you doing?"

Saturn turned, and most of them felt their stomachs flip over slightly at the expression on her childlike face. "I'm going to kill it, Michiru-mama." Her voice was cold, and the child's term of affection only made the statement that much more disturbing. Then she was gone.

"Wait up!" ChibiUsa called, following her friend out the door.

"Michiru, Haruka," Usagi said immediately, "go after them. Ami can guide you from here. Everyone else stays put."

"But..." Makoto started to object.

"No arguments." Usagi looked up at the older girls. "What are you two waiting for? Get going!"

The daimon coursed through the night air, reveling in the sensation of being free in this world of weak beings. For any creature whose nature was rooted in hate and spite, an opportunity like this—to walk in the world of mortals, to torment and terrorize beings without the power to fight back—was sweet beyond compare. The only bitterness it tasted came from the fact that this freedom was, like all others, destined to be short, and rigidly enforced by the power of the one that had summoned it. So be it; even a little freedom was better than none at all.

The longer it remained in this world, the more the daimon felt its body changing to conform with the rules and substance surrounding it. Where before there had been only a patch of floating darkness, there was now a lean, powerful body, set atop double-jointed legs which ended in wide, taloned feet. Long arms dragged down past its bizarre, newly-formed knees, arms upon which broad, many-fingered hands ended in razor sharp claws. Burning red eyes took shape in a gruesome face crowned by back-curling horns that reached almost to its broad shoulders, while dozens of glittering fangs decorated the distended, slime-drooling maw below those eyes. A long mane of fiery hair erupted from the unhealthy green-grey flesh of skull and shoulders and back, followed by solitary tufts on the forearms and legs. In its chest, as something that served the same general purpose as the muscle humans called a heart began to beat, the daimon felt a wild exhilaration. And as its awareness settled into a newly-solidified form, it recalled a word, a name the human-things had given it on its last foray, so very long ago.

"BEASTALUS!" The daimon threw back its almost-human head and roared its name to the stars.

***MILLENNIALS***

Saturn heard the howl of inhuman exaltation and changed direction to close with the source. An ordinary human would have been half-blind in the blend of night darkness and city lights, but her eyes—Senshi eyes—could see fine in almost any weather, any condition of light or dark.

Those eyes glowed dark violet now, seeing not only the light and dark and the shadows in between, but the life and death all around. Through walls and ceilings, around corners, in all directions, she could see the bright glow of life; human, animal, even the vitality of the plants as they slept away the winter months.

And there, up ahead, was a reverse light, a life that was death, a being not of this world. The daimon.

Pieces of those grim memories flashed in front of her eyes: her father, his face twisted into a cold, inhuman smile; her nightmares—or Mistress Nine's dreams—of a Silenced world; her friend, ChibiUsa, laying cold and still and almost dead...

*Not again,* she swore. *Never again.*

She ran faster.

***MILLENNIALS***

The daimon paused in its advance. The unseen chains placed on it by the ritual of summons tried to pull it ahead, but something in its own nature held the terrible creature steady as its newly-acquired senses detected a presence.

A figure touched down on the other end of the roof upon which Beastalus stood. The daimon extended its senses and felt a strange anomaly in this thing which stood in the shadow of a wall. Physical senses of sight and scent told it this was another female human-thing, but without the protection of the magic of the one that had called it. Other senses, though, senses rooted not in the daimon's earthly body but in its supernatural essence and otherworldly origin, told it that something far different from a human stood before it. It was surrounded by a field of dark force, a power much like its own. Another daimon, perhaps?

Beastalus snarled. It did not want to share the pleasure of this mission with another. Roaring a challenge to this interloper, Beastalus lowered its horned head and charged.

Seconds later, cement and brick exploded as the daimon's thick skull burst through the wall behind its enemy. Not even dazed from the impact, Beastalus tore itself free with another roar and a shower of dust, seeking the other being. It was on the other side of the roof, now, waiting.

The daimon essence was very clever, but in assuming solid form, it had been forced to expend much of its mental energy into projecting the power and savagery of Beastalus. This left the creature with little in the way of an actual intellect, but what brain power it still possessed was bright enough to suspect that another charge would probably fail as well. So instead, it turned, seized the edge of the hole in the wall, and pulled, monstrous muscles rippling as a great chunk of brick was torn away. Hefting the jagged slab of plaster and concrete with ease and a toothy grin even a shark might envy, Beastalus hurled the crude projectile at the other being.

The human-thing moved, waving something in its hand, and the mass of brick vanished in mid-flight, swallowed up by a weird ripple in the air. Beastalus paused, fairly certain that this was not what was supposed to happen.

"WORLD SHAKING!"

Beastalus had hardly begun to turn when it was blown off its feet and then clear through the wall by some half-seen attack. Roaring furiously as it tore its way back onto the battlefield, the daimon looked in the direction from which the attack had originated. Three more female human-things that its other senses said were somehow more than human stood atop the next roof. These did not feel like daimons.

The smallest of the human-things began to speak. "All right, dog face, you've had your fun; now it's time to go back to the kennel! I am Sailor ChibiMoon, and in the name of the Moon, I'll punish you!"

*She's her mother's daughter, all right,* Uranus thought, trying not to laugh.

After a moment of confusion, Beastalus roared and leapt to the attack. The three Senshi scattered as the creature's heavy claws sank through the roof where they had been standing. Neptune came out of a backwards jump with the words to her Deep Submerge attack already forming, and Beastalus was blasted from the roof by the surging force of the water. Uranus hit the monster while it was still in the air, jumping up from beneath and driving one elbow into its belly as she brought one knee up into its back. Beastalus roared again as it fell, this time in pain.

"Uranus!" ChibiMoon shouted. "Get clear!" Looking down, the Outer Senshi saw that the younger girl had removed her tiara and now held a golden disc of energy. Never having seen the infamous Moon tiara in action, Uranus had no idea what the kid was up to, but she got clear anyway, giving Beastalus a well-placed kick to the ribs in the process.

"It's all yours!"

"Okay," ChibiMoon said to herself. "Remember what Usagi said: hold on the fingertips, not in the hand; balance on the opposite foot; throw from the shoulder... here goes... MOON TIARA ACTION!"

In the middle of hauling itself back to its misshapen feet, Beastalus heard a high-pitched, whistling buzz. It whirled about, blood-red eyes widening in surprise as the deadly projectile shot in and sank deeply into—through—its torso.

"HHHHHRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!"

"I _got_ it? I GOT IT!" ChibiMoon jumped into the air with a cheer. "Yes, yes, YES! Did you see it? I GOT IT! Oh, wait 'till Diana hears about this! I actually..."

"HHHHHRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!" The second earsplitting roar destroyed ChibiMoon's moment of jubilation. Beastalus was still standing, one taloned hand covering a gaping wound in its belly, a wound which not only bled a vile, greenish substance that smoked when it hit the roof, but which also spit forth twisting coils of black energy. The monster's thick mane was sticking up as if its entire body were charged with electricity, and when it opened its mouth again, it was not to roar, but to spit forth a crackling beam of energy. Off- balance from her throw, ChibiMoon tried to jump, tripped over her own feet, and fell backwards, the hostile energy practically in her face...

"SILENT WALL."

At what felt like the last possible second, the daimon's blazing attack was swallowed up by a shield of violet-dark energy. Through that shield, ChibiMoon could see the monster blink in surprise and turn to face Saturn. The thing's head turned slightly as the other two Senshi landed behind it.

"SPACE SWORD BLASTER!"

"DEEP SUBMERGE!"

The attacks of any Senshi needed only a heartbeat to take shape and play themselves out, but as fast as her adoptive family were, Saturn was even faster. The shield which had just saved ChibiMoon from the daimon's attack now shifted shape and size and center, becoming a dome which encircled Beastalus and Saturn and swallowed the incoming attacks like they had never been.

"Wait!" ChibiMoon called, scrambling to her feet. "What are you doing? Why..." A hand came down on her shoulder, stopping her, and ChibiMoon looked up at Neptune, who quietly shook her head before turning her attention to the sealed-off area.

"ChibiMoon?" Ami's voice came from the communicator. "Neptune? Uranus? What's going on?"

"Not sure," Uranus reported back. "Hang on."

Within the dome, Beastalus narrowed its eyes, puzzled. Another daimon would not have protected it like this, but neither would one of the human- things. Turning to the strange not-daimon, more-than-human creature, Beastalus looked closely with every sense at its disposal, trying to figure out what this being was. A moment later, it took a step backwards, singeing the ends of its heavy mane on the inner edge of the shield.

"Ssssat-urrrrn," the daimon hissed, showing real fear for the first time as it recognized its opponent and understood just how much trouble it was in.

Eyes blazing like dark suns, Saturn nodded. "I thought you might recognize me. Are you one of Pharaoh 90's spawn?"

Beastalus snarled but did not reply. Saturn frowned, and cords of energy shot out of the dome, wrapping around the daimon. Where the cords touched, the daimon began to cease to exist, but the energy pulled away so quickly that the monster's unnatural healing repaired the damage before it became critical. And then the cords touched down again, not burning or tearing, but _erasing_ strips of hide and flesh.

Beastalus screamed.

"Answer me!" Saturn shouted. "Did you work for Pharaoh 90?"

"No!" Beastalus shrieked, its distorted mouth mangling the words. "Beastalussss not of Pharrrraoh! Pharrrraoh dead! All dead! Beastalussss sssserrrrvessss othhhher! Othhhher!"

"Who, then? Answer!" The cords bit deeper, and the monster howled with new intensity.

"Ghrim-Bane! Ghrim-Bane! Beastalussss serves Ghrim-Bane!"

Saturn let the cords loosen. "Did this... Ghrim-Bane... send you?"

"No! Beastalussss wassss ssssummoned! Human-thing callssss Beastalussss!" In its eagerness to avoid the flaying touch of the dark cords, the daimon could hardly speak fast enough. "Ssssendssss Beastalussss to hunt female human-thing. Not find!" the daimon added hastily, seeing the cold fires in Saturn's eyes roar up at the mention of a human victim. "Not find!"

"Who? Who called you? Who were they sending you after?"

"Beastalussss doessss not know! No name! No name!"

"Tell me!" Saturn demanded, bringing the cords down again.

"Not know!" Beastalus shrieked, collapsing into a pile on the rooftop in a vain effort to shield itself.

"You're lying!" Saturn half-screamed. When it made no reply, she turned up the intensity; the daimon's howl was terrible.

"Saturn!" Neptune shouted. "Stop it! Let it go!" Neptune had never thought she would feel sorry for one of these monsters, but what this thing was being forced to endure was ghastly; worse, though, was the chill indifference with which Saturn conducted the interrogation.

Saturn looked at Neptune, and for a moment, did not appear to recognize her. Then the fire in her eyes went down, and the cutting energy disappeared, leaving a wretched, whimpering hulk huddled on the rooftop, slashed and bleeding and surrounded by streamers of smoke as its corrosive blood melted into the cement.

"Listen to me very carefully," Saturn said, squeezing her eyes shut as she addressed the daimon. "I want you to deliver a message to the rest of your kind. Tell them—all of them, wherever it is that you things come from—that if even one more of you comes here, I'll come after all of you. Do you understand me? LEAVE. US. ALONE."

"Beastalussss... undersssstandssss..."

Saturn looked at the cowering thing a moment longer, then let the shield down and began to walk unsteadily towards her friends.

The daimon moved faster than should have been possible. Its body was ragged; great tears in the skin and muscle, pieces of horn missing, weird lines cut through its thick mane. But many of its teeth were intact, and it still had most of its claws—and these it extended as it leapt for Saturn's unprotected back with a howl of triumph.

Before anyone else could move, there was a muffled explosion, and then Beastalus staggered backwards, staring stupidly at the razor-sharp head of the Silence Glaive, which protruded from its broad chest. Its body already beginning to dissolve into lifeless dust, the daimon looked up at Saturn, whose face was once again emotionless.

"Give my regards to Mistress Nine," she said coldly. Then the last spark of its unnatural life fled, severed and swallowed up by the gleaming blade, and Beastalus ceased to exist. The Silence Glaive clanged as it fell, leaving Saturn to stare at it and the fading pile of dust around it for a long time.

Neptune stepped forward in silence. "Saturn?"

She blinked and looked up when Neptune touched her arm. "M-Michiru? I didn't... I didn't mean to... to hurt it like that, I just wanted to... I needed to know if..."

"Shhhh," Neptune said, drawing the younger girl into a gentle embrace.

"I'm not like them," Saturn whispered fiercely. "I won't be like them. I can't let them make me be like them." She repeated these words over and over again. Being forced to wield the power of death and destruction was a heavy burden on its own, but the thought that she might begin to delve into the darker applications of that power, that she might _enjoy_ the horrible things it would allow her to do, was one of Saturn's worst nightmares. This was not the first time Neptune had heard such a frightened prayer. She suspected it would not be the last.

"I know, Firefly. I know." Even the use of the familiar nickname failed to calm Saturn; she did not cry, but her entire body shook, and she clung to her foster-mother like a rock in a storm.

"All I know," ChibiMoon said after a minute, looking at her tiara with a mix of disgust and disappointment, "is that either somebody's been buying second-hand tiaras, or Luna and Mama lied to me when they described what this thing could do."

Neptune could have smacked the girl, but the comment made Saturn laugh weakly.

"It's not funny!" ChibiMoon protested, although a faint glitter in her eye suggested this was exactly what she had hoped would happen. "I could have been seriously hurt because of substandard merchandise! I'll sue! I don't know who and I don't know how, but in the name of the Moon, _somebody_ is going to pay for this!" She looked up into the sky. "Do you hear me?"

Saturn was spluttering and probably would have fallen over if Neptune hadn't been holding her up. Neptune sighed and glanced over at Uranus, whose features were locked in the same rueful exasperation she knew to be covering her own face.

Evidently, they still had a lot to learn about being parents.

***MILLENNIALS***

The daimon's last anguished howl trailed away into eternity as the fabric of the spell unraveled. The girl staggered backwards at the stinging lash of power as the portal to the daimon's home realm snapped shut.

She screamed, furious. She had followed the daimon's progress with the tracking illusion, watching it cross the city and draw ever closer to her selected target. And then, still blocks from its objective, the creature had stopped, and the entire tracking spell had failed! And now the creature was dead; not just defeated and driven back to its own realm, but dead!

All that she had to guess the identity of whatever had slain the creature were vague thoughts, lifted from the daimon's mind via a tenuous mental link her spell had established between them. That part of the magic, she was still having problems with; otherwise, she would have been able to see what the daimon saw, hear what it heard, and direct it as clearly from a distance as if she were right next to it. No such clarity had been formed, but from the daimon's crude and simplistic thoughts of 'female human-things' that were somehow more than human, she had a pretty good idea as to what had interfered.

*Make that 'who,'* she decided grimly. *This could be a problem.*

***MILLENNIALS***

"So where did it come from, then?" Minako asked.

The Senshi were once again gathered in Makoto's living room. Hotaru sat on the larger couch, hugging her knees up under her chin, with Michiru to her right and ChibiUsa to her left. Haruka was sitting on the armrest beyond Michiru, while Setsuna had taken the footstool. Usagi sat in the armchair, Rei on the floor at her feet, and Ami and Ryo shared the smaller couch. Minako was pacing back and forth in front of the balcony. Luna and Artemis shared the table—she sitting upright, he curled up and half-asleep—Gladius was leaning against the wall in one corner, and the Book of Ages was on the floor next to Rei. Makoto was standing in the doorway between living room and kitchen, listening to the others while keeping an eye on supper.

"I'd like to know that myself," Michiru agreed. "We went back through the Death Busters' place and destroyed every daimon egg we could find, along with all the equipment and notes they used to create the things in the first place." She glanced at Setsuna, then added, "Pluto said that we'd gotten all of them, and _that_ was almost two years ago. If that thing was lying, if it _was_ one of theirs, how could it have survived this long without us knowing about it? And if it wasn't lying, then who or what else could have possibly created it?"

"You're assuming that daimons are created at all, Michiru," Luna pointed out. "They're not. Not like the rest of the creatures you've fought, at least."

"What do you mean?"

Luna took a deep breath. "The Dark Kingdom created youma by twisting the life energy of humans, plants, and animals, and the lemures of the Dead Moon Circus were similar. The alien cardians and the Black Moon droids were all created from inanimate objects, infused with energy of one kind or another to give them a semblance of life, and Galaxia's animamates were evil versions of people that could have—who _should_ have—been our allies. The daimons were different; their bodies were created, but the energy which drove them wasn't from this world at all."

"Ail and Ann were aliens," Usagi countered. "So were Galaxia and her bunch."

Luna shook her head. "I'm not talking about other planets, Usagi, or even other galaxies. The core essence of the daimons originated from a completely alternate universe, with its own unique rules of existence. Probably not a very pleasant universe, either," Luna added, "based on what we've seen of the natives."

"Hell?" Haruka asked, sounding a little skeptical.

"It's as good a name as any, I suppose." Luna frowned. "I don't know the specifics, but ancient wizards found ways to push through the barriers which separate our reality from others; they could travel to another universe, or bring its objects and creatures back into ours. Whatever it was that Professor Tomoe was experimenting with originally must have duplicated the effects of an old summoning ritual and let Mistress Nine into our world."

"I'm not so sure about that, Luna," Hotaru disagreed. "Sometimes, in her... my dreams, I got a sense of wandering. Through space. Then she saw or felt something in Papa's experiments, and..."

"I suppose it's possible she came across on her own," Luna admitted. "I remember reading about it happening once or twice, a very long time ago."

"Wait a minute," Rei objected. "If Mistress Nine was able to come here on her own, then what was all that trouble about the heart crystals and the Grail for? Why didn't Pharaoh 90 just step across on its own?"

"It couldn't. Moving from one reality to another is a very difficult thing," Luna explained. "Lesser creatures like the daimons don't have enough intelligence or energy to do it, but beings as powerful as Pharaoh 90 have too _much_ power; they're too much a concentration of the rules and properties of their own universe to leave it behind. _But,_ if someone on _this_ side were to start changing the nature of our universe, making it more like the reality of Pharaoh 90, then the barrier between worlds would have been weakened enough for it to enter our universe."

"If that was all it needed," ChibiUsa said, confused, "why didn't Mistress Nine just..." She made a sort of explosive motion with her hands while silently mouthing the word 'BOOM.'

"She couldn't do it on her own," Hotaru replied softly. "Her natural form couldn't interact with our reality on the kind of level she needed to call Pharaoh 90. That's what she needed Papa for... and me."

"And she needed a very specific power source in order to control the power of Saturn," Luna added. "But if Mistress Nine had left Hotaru's body to conduct the search in person, Hotaru would have died, and Saturn would have disappeared for another generation. So she had the Professor design all those devices to locate and steal heart crystals, while binding the spirits of lesser daimons into bodies native to this world. If you girls hadn't been taking out the daimons as fast as they were being turned loose, eventually there would have been enough of them here to tip the balance of forces and let Pharaoh 90 free even without Saturn."

"That's an unpleasant thought," Minako noted, shivering. "Anyway, we've gotten sidewalked here. Luna, you said people used to use magic to call daimons. Since all the Death Busters' research was trashed, I suppose that means this latest creep was brought here by magic?"

Luna nodded. "It would almost have to have been. Despite the mistakes he made, Professor Tomoe was something of a genius; I don't think anyone could duplicate his work on their own. The problem, though, is that the kind of magic necessary for that sort of summoning was outlawed a long time ago—just like the designs for a mana nexus." Luna glanced out the window. "Whoever's out there now, they know an awful lot about things that were supposed to have been forgotten forever."

There was a silence. "Speaking of knowing things," Ami said suddenly, "if that daimon really wasn't associated with the Death Busters or Pharaoh 90, then how did it recognize Saturn? And for that matter," she added, looking at Hotaru, "how did you know it was out there in the first place?"

"I'm not sure," Hotaru admitted.

"You were walking around with Mistress Nine inside you for a long time," Luna pointed out gently. "You've probably built up a sensitivity to her kind of energy because of that. As for the daimon itself... well, that has to do with Saturn. The planet, I mean."

"Oh?"

Luna looked around. "Did any of you ever stop to wonder why Pluto is the Senshi of Time and Saturn the Senshi of Destruction when their planets are classically associated with each other's power?"

There were some blank looks. "Greco-Roman mythology," Ryo said. "The Roman god Saturn was the counterpart to the Greek Titan, Chronos, who is associated with time; Pluto corresponds to Hades, the Greek god of the underworld and the lord of the dead."

"Thanks for the history lesson," Haruka said dryly. From his seat, Ryo made a sort of half-bow.

"Knock it off," Ami muttered. Then she raised her voice. "Go on, Luna. You were saying?"

"Like I said, it has to do with Saturn. More precisely, it has to do with the planet's location in space and time. It's directly on top of what you might called an interdimensional intersection, a place where those different realities I mentioned before all brush up against each other, and where their different rules tend to overlap and cancel each other out. Once upon a time, it was possible to use the unique warping of reality to travel to any location, in any dimension, at any time."

"So what happened?" Minako asked.

"An experiment." Luna scratched behind her left ear for a moment. "You see, Saturn wasn't an entirely reliable means of travel. The same blending of rules which made it so useful also made magic, science, and even time tend to act in odd ways; if you entered the warp, you could never be entirely certain where or when you'd come out. A lot of people studied Saturn for a long time, and eventually, they decided they were ready to try and create a smaller, more stable method of moving through space-time."

"The Time Gate?" half a dozen voices guessed simultaneously.

"Exactly. The effort to create it was focused on Pluto, for three reasons. The first was that Pluto is one of the smallest planets, and the second was its distance from the sun. Both of these factors make local gravity fairly minor and relatively constant in comparison with some of the other planets, which means that the planet's local curving of space-time is easier to predict and monitor. You see..."

"Uh, Luna?" Ami interrupted.

"What?" Ami glanced meaningfully around the room; Luna followed the look, and noticed that other than Ami, Michiru, Ryo, and—somewhat surprisingly— Setsuna, her audience was starting to get that glazed-eyes look of confusion. She sighed, then summed up: "Pluto is a good place for conducting experiments in time travel."

"What was the third reason?" Minako asked.

"It's a stray ball of ice on the far edge of known space," Luna said. "Nobody ever went there, so it was ideal for secrecy."

"And if something went wrong and the Gate blew up," Setsuna added, "nobody would care what happened to the neighborhood."

"That too," Luna admitted. "That was why Pluto was associated with death, originally; it's cold, dark, and completely hostile to life as we know it. And that's why Senshi Pluto's primary attack is the Dead Scream; she channels the negative energy that still surrounds the planet."

"And Saturn?" Hotaru asked.

"I'm getting to that. Obviously, the experiments with the Time Gate worked, but everyone had conveniently forgotten to consider what the creation of a new space-time warp would do to the existing one at Saturn. It basically went crazy."

"How so?"

"Originally, the blending of realities was a fairly constant thing. It changed from time to time, but only very gradually, so there was a fair degree of safety even if you did get lost. After the Time Gate was built, the warp at Saturn accelerated to the point where the shifting of the various dimensions happened completely at random, too fast to follow. As a result, anyone and anything that gets too close is torn apart and scattered into a million different universes." Luna's face was grave. "Naturally, nothing could survive such an experience. And since the power of a Senshi is drawn from her planet, the power of Saturn changed to match the deadly new nature of her world—chaotic and tremendously strong. That was when it was decided to seal the power of Saturn away, not to be used except in times of the most dire emergency. The Time Gate was transported into the mists at the end of time for the same reasons, and the then-current Pluto was given the Time Key and charged with preventing misuse of the Gate."

"You mean Setsuna wasn't always Pluto?" ChibiUsa asked in surprise.

"She was during the entire Silver Millennium. I'm not sure who her predecessors were, though, or what happened to them."

"And how does all that explain how a daimon knew who Saturn was?" Makoto asked.

"One of the few times a Senshi of Saturn was activated was during a massive incursion of daimons around five thousand years ago. She stopped them in our universe and then went after them in their own, using the warp at Saturn." Luna smiled faintly. "I'd imagine that the survivors made sure their descendants would remember her."

"Which was part of the reason why Mistress Nine wanted to destroy Earth," Hotaru said. "Not just because it was here, but for revenge. And getting me to do it would have been the perfect payback for what Saturn did to the daimons."

"Pretty much."

"Terrific," Usagi grumbled, ticking items off on her fingers. "Fungus monsters, annoying letters from beyond, forbidden magical devices, and now daimons, too." She sighed. "Well, unless somebody knows where we can rent an army on short notice, I'd say about all we can do for now is stay on our toes, keep up the patrols, and wait for the other side to make their next move."

"Agreed."

"And now that that's been decided," Usagi said, turning to Makoto and grinning, "what's for dinner?"

***SAILOR SAYS***

_(the girls are all sitting or standing around on stage, reading lines and preparing for the last segment) _

**Rei**: Anybody got any idea of what the moral's supposed to be this time? _(various negative replies)_ Didn't think so.

**Minako**: Shouldn't you be trying to figure out how to get that Book open?

**Rei**: I'll get around to it, but we need a moral right now. _(the screen fizzles into static, then comes back) _What the heck was that?_ (another mess of static; Rei looks off to her left)_ Ami, what's going on?

**Ami** _(leaning in from the side of the screen, wearing a headset with a microphone attached)_: Something's interfering with the signal! I'm trying to track it... _(static becomes overwhelming, then clears to reveal Queen Serenity in the computer chamber) _

**Queen Serenity**: Is this thing on? Am I getting through? Oh, good. Sorry to hijack the signal like that, but they seemed to be having some trouble. A good possibility for a moral is that the present and the future are profoundly influenced by the past. Young Ryo's unease on the Moon as a result of the youma memories he retains is one such example; my daughter's flashback is another, as it and all the other memories she and her friends carry of their former lives will help to shape their actions. The unleashing of the daimon is also such a case, not just because creatures like it have made trouble before and had a profound impact on the lives of the Senshi, but also because of the mysterious young spellcaster's deep resent of events in her own past, which led her to summon the beast in the first place. The past is, quite simply, too important to ignore. (she smiles ruefully) Although, as Luna has shown, it's also all too easy to forget.

**Luna** _(human form, frowning)_: I heard that, Serenity.

**Queen Serenity**: Good.

_(Usagi storms in) _

**Usagi**: Mother! What are you _doing?_

**Queen Serenity**: Just passing the time, dear one. You don't mind if I have a little fun now and then, do you?

**Usagi**: Well, I suppose not... but you could have asked, first.

**Ikuko**: You never do.

_(Usagi freaks) _

**Usagi**: Mom? How did _you_ get up here? _(runs at the camera)_ Hold it! Cut! Cut! Stop filming! _(camera falls over with a loud crash, screen goes black) _

**Ikuko**: Was she this clumsy when you raised her?

**Queen Serenity**: You have _no_ idea...

02/06/00 (Revised as of 15/08/02)

I'd imagine most of you want to know why I had to go and drag the daimons back into this. Well, spirits and otherworldly entities are a pretty major part of established fantasy, and since I do have a bunch of evil wizards running around, they're going to end up summoning things. Of all the monsters, the daimons are the best suited to making a summons-related return; the word is an old Greco-Roman term for a household spirit, sort of a personal mini-god. (I did well in Ancient History. Sue me.)

Youma, if I read my Japanese dictionary correctly, means something like 'undead,' which is okay, but I've always held the opinion that a single daimon could make lunchmeat out of a half-dozen of its Dark Kingdom counterparts. The animamates were people who'd been 'turned to the dark side,' while everyone knows that 'droid' is short for android, a mechanical being. Now, lemures might have been okay—lemure is Latin for 'ghost,' as opposed to lemur, which is a monkey—but the Dead Moon Circus are the biggest bunch of goofy monsters I've ever seen, and Nehelenia already came back once anyway. The cardians were a nogo from the start, since that would have involved bringing back Ail and Ann.

Hope that clears it up.

In the future:  
-Some odd things start happening;  
-Our 'shadow council' gets a little less shadowy;  
-I am going to get to February if it kills me!


	9. Chapter 9

Ami opened her eyes very slowly.

They snapped shut again as a brilliant lance of pain invaded the irises, pierced the pupils, cut through the corneas, and ripped apart the retinas to end up lodged somewhere in her brain. She had been feeling much better yesterday evening, even despite the discovery that she couldn't transform into Mercury for a little while, but now it appeared that the brief bout of near-normal health had used up most of her body's resources. She was no longer sick, but was instead feeling the aftereffects of illness—namely, weakness, hunger, and fatigue.

*Time to get up,* she thought. Never mind that she was half-blind, dead tired, and ready to beat Usagi's record of downing the equivalent of three meals in one sitting; there was school to attend. Pushing back the blankets, Ami rose and went in search of the shower. Slowly.

Makoto met her in the hall, already dressed—a welcome change from her usual morning routine—in what she called her 'work clothes,' battered old slacks and a loose-fitting top, which she wore so she could cook without fear of getting anything on her school uniform or other, more important outfits. "Good morning, Ami-chan. Sleep well?"

Yawning widely enough to make her jaw creak, Ami nodded. "The last thing I remember is my head hitting the pillow. At least, I think it was a pillow." Yawning again, she sniffed at the air and detected the aroma of... well, she was in no condition to puzzle out what it was, but SOMEthing was cooking, and her stomach made a point of reminding her that the most solid food she'd been able to keep down in the last two days amounted to a bowl of broth and some Jello. "What's for breakfast?"

"Whatever's left after I demolished the fridge to feed the animals last night," Makoto replied wryly. "And it's lunch, actually."

Ami blinked, looked back into her room, and saw 11:19 glowing back at her. "I slept in? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I did wake you up. Twice. Once at 6:45, like you asked me to, and again at quarter after seven. You were asleep again inside of five minutes, so I called the school and let them know you still weren't better. So, what would you like to eat?"

"Well, some pancakes would..." Ami shook her head. Come to think of it, she did vaguely recall being shaken to something resembling consciousness. She'd turned back over both times and plunged headlong into peaceful slumber—but that wasn't the point. "Don't try to change the subject, Mako-chan. You should have woken me up."

"What for? So you could collapse in the middle of gym class or walk out into traffic?" Makoto gave her a very direct look. "Ami, you may know more than I do about how the body works, but I know enough to realize that yours is a wreck right now. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? You're whiter than a sheet, you've got bags _over_ your eyes as well as under them, and they're bloodshot besides."

Ami started to say something, and Makoto rolled on over it. "Your fever's gone, but you got maybe two hours of sleep that whole time you were fighting it, and you really need something to eat; you hardly touched anything at dinner last night, and I know for a fact there can't be anything _else_ in your system. Not after all the time you spent getting sick yesterday. Now," Makoto continued, looking her over, "you are going to join me in the kitchen, and you are going to eat something if I have to tie you to a chair and feed you by hand."

"But..." Ami protested, her hand making the beginnings of a motion towards the bathroom before Makoto cut her off.

"You can have a shower later, once you're all-the-way awake and not dead on your feet; I don't want you passing out and hitting your head in the tub or on the sink."

"But..."

"Move, Mizuno."

***MILLENNIALS***

Usagi was walking the halls, killing time in the latter half of the lunch break when Ryo appeared alongside her. Minako had gone to an intramural volleyball game in the gym not five minutes before, and Usagi wondered if Ryo was jumping on the bodyguard bandwagon in Minako's place. How he expected to be any real help in a fight was beyond her; if worst came to worst, she herself _might_ still be able to transform, and even in her everyday guise, she was probably still as strong as Ryo. And she had the ginzuishou looking out for her on top of that. The only thing she could think of was that Ryo intended to foresee trouble and steer her out of its way.

His question dispelled her suspicions a little. "Still out, are they?"

Usagi nodded. "Haruna-sensei told me earlier that Mako-chan called in sick for Ami-chan this morning." She chuckled.

"Something funny?"

"Oh, just that there were apparently some objections to the story in the office. You know Imono-sensei?"

"The vice-principal? Slightly bald guy, wears suits? Has a stare that could strip paint from a wall at a range of fifty feet?" Usagi nodded, and Ryo nodded back. "Met him yesterday."

"Well, he handles discipline around here, and he makes it his business to shoot down every absentee excuse the students serve up. From what Haruna said, he didn't buy Mako-chan's bit about staying home to look after a sick friend, and he called to threaten her with serious detention time for skipping school."

"I note she's still not here."

"Yeah. Haruna-sensei spotted Mister Discipline just after that phonecall." Usagi laughed wickedly. "She had no idea what Mako-chan must have said, but Imono-sensei looked white as a sheet when he came out of his office."

Ryo nodded sagely. "Makoto doesn't take well to being threatened, I've noticed. I just hope she doesn't get into trouble for whatever she said to him." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go, Usagi-chan; I've got a book due back at the library before next period." He held up a fair-sized book, whose title included a couple of words Usagi doubted she could even pronounce properly.

"You're here one day and you're already checking the heavy stuff out of the library," Usagi said, sighing in mock despair. "Well, I suppose Ami-chan would approve."

"Hey, nature spent four billion years giving us the cranial capacity and opposable digits necessary to write in the first place; it'd be a shame to waste all that effort, wouldn't it? Actually, though, it's a book Ami-chan borrowed last week. She would have asked you or Mina-chan to return it for her, but she wanted it back on time." Ryo grinned and then glanced around. The only other people in sight were four girls at the near end of the hall, but he lowered his voice out of long habit. "Watch your step when you get upstairs, okay? One of the janitors must have gotten overly generous with the floor wax last night, because there's a slippery patch near room 204."

"I appreciate the warning. Any chance you could tell me what the answers on the next math quiz are going to be?"

"Nice try." Usagi made a face at him, smiled, and walked off; shaking his head, Ryo turned and headed for the library.

Unnoticed in Usagi's case and forgotten in Ryo's, the group of girls watched them go. "They're awfully chummy, aren't they? You don't suppose he's..."

"I doubt it," one of the other girls said. "He's kinda cute, but if Tsukino was interested, she would have been making an idiot of herself over him by now."

The first girl, shorter than the rest and with a green tint in her hair to match her eyes, looked up at the one who had answered. "Do you suppose he's with one of her friends, then?"

"Maybe, maybe not." The girl shrugged. None of the four were by any means overweight, but she was noticeably thinner than her friends. Her hair was blonde and her eyes brown, but there was a faded, pale quality to her entire coloration; combined with her more than slender figure, those washed-out tones left her appearance somewhat reminiscent of what you'd expect a ghost to look like. "If the book's anything to go by, it'd be Mizuno."

The third girl snorted. She had bright blue eyes and many freckles, but her hair was more brown than it was red. "Yeah, right. Since when has she even looked at a guy?"

"Maybe Kino's not paying enough attention to her," the last girl suggested with a wicked smile. Anyone watching would likely have pegged her as the leader; there was a certain air of authority about her, something which suggested that when she talked, she expected people to listen. Blue-black eyes glittered in a pale, more than pretty face framed by long black hair; the smile on her lips was not reflected in those dark eyes as they turned to the pale girl. "Did you get much out of Umino?"

"Some. This Urawa attended the junior high for about two weeks, three years ago. He apparently managed to beat out Mizuno for top marks at the time..."

"I'll believe that the day the sun comes up blue," the freckled girl said. The other one went on as if she had not been interrupted.

"...but since his family moved, nobody was ever sure if he really was that smart or if he just lucked out. Umino seemed to think he was genuine. His parents are still together, he doesn't have any siblings, and he's back now because his father got a promotion and a transfer. He also suffers from periodic headaches, but whether that's a medical condition or just the result of hanging around Tsukino too long, I don't know. That was about all Umino had."

"I see." Dark eyes narrowed speculatively as they watched Ryo proceed down the hall. "Keep looking. We need something. And if he does turn out to be with Mizuno, well..." The gaze was on the unfriendly side of neutral as she smiled again.

Even on the opposite end of the hall, Ryo felt someone watching him. He was used to the feeling by now, and suspected it was an outgrowth of his ability to predict the future. Every so often, he could tell when someone he knew was nearby before he had actually seen them; he could walk along a sidewalk, head down, eyes on the pavement, and not once bump into anyone. He almost always knew when someone was looking at him, and could turn and pick out the looker even from across a crowded room. He did that now, looking back down the corridor and spotting the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl.

Their gazes met for just an instant, and the world fell away as another vision impressed itself on Ryo's field of view. He saw a figure on a gurney being lifted into an ambulance by paramedics, a slight, female figure in torn and dirty clothing. The face, a mass of blackening bruises and bloody cuts, was virtually unrecognizable, and one eye was swollen shut—but the other, staring up at the sky, was the same blue-black shade of the eyes he had just locked gazes with, and the hair was definitely hers as well. The image lasted only a split second, but Ryo caught a glimpse of trees against the evening sky beyond the ambulance. Green trees, in the full bloom of at least late spring.

Reality came back in a flood of white, and Ryo broke off eye contact, turning away before the clenching of teeth and squinting of eyes kicked in, the automatic response to the pain he had learned to live with after more premonitions than he could count. He walked away, legs as steady as if nothing had happened—the vision had been short, so the pain was less, unlike other times, when particularly intense or prolonged foretellings had literally driven him to his knees—but inside, he felt sick.

Each time a vision came, Ryo did more than just see what was going to happen. His other senses seemed to take turns joining in on the experience—a snatch of conversation here, a mixture of peculiar odors there, sensations of heat or cold at other times—and it was frequently as if information were being directly implanted into his head, so that he could 'remember' things he had not known prior to the flash, things which had not yet even taken place.

The dark-eyed girl was going to be trouble. How or why, Ryo had no idea; he knew only that it was so. And at some point in the future, by the end of a summer that was still months from even starting, she was going to be terribly injured. Again, the how and why of the matter remained a mystery.

*I'd better warn Ami-chan and the others,* he thought gloomily. *Maybe they'll be able to catch who—or whatever will be responsible.* He held on to that thought; he didn't hold out any hope that even the Senshi could prevent the girl from being hurt.

He knew better.

***MILLENNIALS***

Across the city, dozens of tiny, concealed clusters of springy green fungoid matter erupted with even tinier reddish-orange pods as Proteus opened its eyes and looked upon the world again. It was good to be able to see again; it was just as good that it had recovered so quickly.

Proteus had not expected to be able to repair so much of the damage done to its simplistic, far-flung body in such a short time, but then again, all its knowledge of healing and self-repair was based on what it would have been able to accomplish before its absorption of the humans, when it was essentially the same as the mindless units that hung in readiness at the growing trap sites.

*It seems I have grown in more ways than I realized,* the entity mused, watching—feeling—as blackened and burnt-out sections rippled back into green life. *And yet I must grow even more than this.*

Yes. It was time to begin the first experiment. But carefully, carefully; it would not do at all for this experiment to take place too close to one of the trap sites, for the units might waken prematurely and go in search of the energy Proteus would be using. Or perhaps Archon's female apprentice would be on hand to witness. Either would tell the master mage that something very peculiar was going on. He would learn of it eventually, of that Proteus had no doubt, but with the proper precautions, even Archon would have difficulty tracking the anomaly back to its source.

*And with luck, by the time he realizes, I will no longer be as I am. What _will_ I be, I wonder?*

After a moment of yearning consideration, Proteus dismissed the question. Not enough information, yet, to form any kind of answer. That was what the experiment—and others, later—would be for.

The entity stilled itself, quelling random thought, suppressing the flow of energy throughout its entire self. Had it possessed lungs, they would have breathed deeply; had it possessed the kind of eyes owned by humans, they would be closed, the brow above them furrowed with concentration. Everything it could muster—thought, will, and most especially energy—was being focused on a single objective. A weird tingling sensation began to build within parts of its body as energy looped in on itself, concentrating and growing.

*Now,* Proteus thought, releasing the gathered force. *Begin.*

In an apartment somewhere in Tokyo, a man named Hiroshi clutched at the back of his neck as a searing pain erupted at the base of his brain and made its agonizing way into the rest of his body. Unable to move even those muscles that would allow him to scream, he fell, every nerve ending feeling frozen and on fire at the same time, a chorus of chaos ringing in the grey matter between his ears.

Beneath Hiroshi's hand, the controlling device Proteus had implanted nearly a month ago—the green-grey star which had until now been hidden from all sight and scent and touch—reappeared. Reappeared, and grew. Grew from a tiny star to a small blemish on the skin, from a blemish to a green rash, and from the rash into a spreading, creeping second skin. It covered Hiroshi from head to foot, clothes and all, and continued to grow outwards until the shape of the body had been lost within the shape of a pod. And still it grew. Tiny blots appeared on the surface and became the reddish eye-sensors, examining the room from all sides; tiny tufts of green lengthened into creepers, making their way along the floor and walls and ceiling and whatever else they touched in order to reach wall sockets and light fixtures. And the green substance continued to grow.

As power began to trickle into the pod from the electrical system of the building, Proteus ceased the flow of its own power. While part of its awareness studied what was happening to Hiroshi, another part made a fast but thorough examination of the trap sites, the units within them, and the apartment where Archon's apprentice lived. The units remained dormant; the girl was practicing what appeared to be a spell of levitation or flight. All was well.

Only once it was certain of that did Proteus relax. The effort of compressing the energy needed to begin this experiment into such a fine, short- lived transmission had left the entity experiencing a new sensation; exhaustion. But it was done, and the riskiest part of the project—the burst of broadcast energy, so easy to detect and track—was safely past. All Proteus had to do now was wait and watch, in absolute secrecy, as events progressed.

***MILLENNIALS***

"So where did it come from?" the harsh-voiced man asked.

The darkened room was once again hosting a meeting. The seven who had been in attendance at the last meeting were here once again. No surprise there; none of the Directors _ever_ missed a meeting, and the only way one of the unseen faces assembled here would change would be if something unpleasant—and probably fatal—had happened to the previous Director.

A smile creased the hidden face of the humorous man who had asked so many questions at the last meeting. *And even _that_ might not be enough to stop some of them from attending.*

The Sciences Director, the woman with the icy voice, was speaking. "Damage to the sensor networks in that area was too extensive to track either the source or the destination of the broadcast. The only reason we picked it up at all was because of the interference it generated in communications. None of the previous energies we've recorded have had that kind of effect."

"Except when communications equipment happened to be damaged or destroyed by said energies," the dreary-voiced Information Director noted.

That was his cue. "Are my ears playing tricks on me, or did you just make a joke?" There was no reply, but he could feel at least two pairs of eyes fix on him, and probably a couple of sidelong glances from the others for good measure. Without even seeing them, he knew exactly who was looking at him, and how: the direct looks would be from Sciences and Information, and likely the harsh-voiced Security Director as well; the glances would be from Personnel—that woman at least had a sense of humor—and the seldom-speaking Resources Director. And the man at the head of the table, the Political Director, would not have reacted at all.

Not for the first time, he wondered about the faces that went with those voices. After all, his job entailed the concealment of this and many other secrets, and it was only natural that he become curious about what—and who—he was hiding. As Sciences continued to explain what little information they had on the events of the last few days, the curious man toyed with what he knew of the organization and tried to guess who the Directors might be in everyday life.

Security was no problem, of course. His department was, by necessity, of a military nature, with a rigidly defined hierarchy; squadmen answered to their lieutenants, who answered to group captains, who in turn answered to their Director. And as with any military, more often than not, with increased rank went increased age. There wasn't that much difference between the squadmen and the lieutenants, or between the lieutenants and the captains, but the captains definitely had a few years on the squadmen, just as the Director had a few more on _them._

Sciences was a little harder. Quite a few of the assorted doctors and professors who were included in her department were scattered across the city, working either independently or as part of small groups, and most of those were probably unaware of the fact that they _were_ working for someone. Those who actually worked in the complex itself were a mixed bag, the labcoats who thought up and built things, and the technicians who kept them working. He knew that this Director worked in the complex at least part of the time, and she certainly wasn't a technician, but there were enough women among the hard-core scientists to make her difficult to pick out. He had a couple of likely candidates in mind, but he'd never heard this icy voice outside of these meetings, so he couldn't be completely sure one way or the other.

Information, Personnel, and Resources did most of their tasks through long-established networks which enabled them to locate, obtain, and place the necessary data, new employee, or material where they were needed, and when—and then conceal the fact that any of that locating, obtaining, and placement had happened. Between them, the trio oversaw maybe half the number of people either of the other Directors did, but everyone in these three departments tended to be very similar to each other—introverted, intelligent, and hard to track down—so telling who of them were the Directors was tricky. Personnel he knew for certain thanks to her delightful sense of humor, but as with Sciences, Information apparently spoke differently under different circumstances. And Resources hardly spoke at all, which made him just as much of a problem to track down.

And as for Political... who knew who the man might be? He worked alone, bridging the gap between the Directors and those very, very few others who even knew this organization existed: a few members of the Diet, certainly, and perhaps City Hall, working secretly to deal with a concern of the voters; a handful of higher-ups in the corporate world, protecting their business interests by funding this venture; likely someone in the military as well, if the weapons Security was so proud of were all he made them out to be; and perhaps one or two others. And Political could be from any of those camps, or none. Not someone famous, though; he would have been able to tell from the voice if Political were a well-known figure.

"Repairs to the detection system are underway," Sciences was saying, "both here and in the outlying sections. At the current rate of progress, we should have it back to normal inside another week."

"And what do we do until then?" Security asked.

"I've got portable scanners your patrols and our other field personnel can use," Sciences replied. "They don't have the same kind of range as the main system, and the number is limited, but they're better than going out there blind."

"Can you make enough to outfit all my teams? And all field agents as well?"

"In time, perhaps." Sciences paused. "With all the repairs we're doing to the main system, parts are going to be scarce for a while."

Resources sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Do it fast," Information suggested. He pressed a button on his console, and a screen lit up on the far end of the room, opposite from the seat occupied by Political, showing a map of Tokyo. Even with the screen, there wasn't enough light to make out faces. "Another creature popped up last night, but it wasn't like the others we've seen recently; people reported hearing howling, and a partial trail of claw marks was found along a series of rooftops in the Juuban area." Part of the map showed a red line.

"And the creature itself?" Sciences asked. Security had moved as if he'd meant to ask the same thing.

"The trail ends at a partially demolished rooftop." Information pressed another button, and a snapshot of the area appeared over the map. Cracked concrete, smashed bricks, and patches that might have been burned or melted were clearly visible. "From the look of it, the thing ran into one or more of the Senshi."

"We need to assemble a field team to investigate," Personnel said. "I've got some people who can pose as city maintenance, and if I could get some of those portable scanners, we might be able to backtrack this thing's path and find out where it came from."

"I'll have a technician who knows how to use the scanners deliver them," Sciences promised. She sounded a little distracted, and seemed to be examining the map.

"Send a security squad along as well," Political instructed. "Street clothes, but make sure they'll have access to their weapons if our search crew finds anything. Or if anything finds them."

"They'll be there," Security said.

*Now what prompted that, I wonder?* "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

"This operation was established for the sole purpose of protecting the people of Tokyo—mentally as much as physically—and last night's little light show has raised some serious questions about how well we're living up to that responsibility. Without the proof of physical bodies or injured bystanders, the authorities can deny the existence of monsters. Mass fainting spells can be attributed to heatstroke or food poisoning, damage to buildings can be passed off as mundane terrorist action, and UFO sightings are dismissed as a matter of course. Giant blazing fireballs making round trips to the Moon aren't nearly so easy to explain away, especially when they show up on military and civilian radar and then get covered by every major newspaper and television network in the country."

"That _would_ make plausible deniability a little tricky, wouldn't it?" That earned more glances and hard looks. "Hey, my people did what they could to downplay the mess, but it's a little hard to cover up something half the city saw with their own eyes!"

"Are they considering shutting us down?" Personnel asked quietly.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Following a meeting this morning, it was decided that our relatively poor progress is not due to lack of effort, but inadequate resources and manpower. As of 8:29 this morning, our operating budget has effectively been doubled."

"That was generous of them," Resources said. "What's the catch?"

"The catch," Political replied, "is that our marching orders have been changed. We're to establish a minimum of three field stations for Security in each district, both to cut down the response time in future incidents and to serve as bases for regular patrols of the city. Until such time as the sensor network is fully operational, the field stations complete, and the patrols outfitted, Sciences is to put all other projects on hold; Resources, Information, and Personnel are similarly ordered to give the supplying of those endeavors top priority. And Security is to have at least one team patrolling each district at all times."

"About bloody time," Security rumbled.

*That's what I thought he'd say.* "And my department, as if I didn't already know..."

"In light of the fact that the increased number of field personnel raises the likelihood of a direction confrontation, Media is to assign its own teams to each new station in sufficient numbers to accompany each Security patrol."

Pretty much what he'd expected to hear. His department, Media, was the branch in charge of keeping the existence of this operation secret in a world full of cameras, camcorders, cellphones, and Internet access. To that end, he headed up a group of people who could prevaricate, mislead, misinform, button up, deceive, and just plain lie with the best of them. Media's task all came down to one word: cover. Cover their eyes, cover up the truth, cover your ass...

Sometimes it still got to him; he hadn't taken all those journalism courses in university just to make a career out of lying to people. He understood the necessity of keeping this particular field of information out of the public eye, of course; he hadn't believed in monsters or aliens since he was ten, and learning that both—or things very much like them—really did exist had been the biggest shock of his life. If positive proof that humanity wasn't alone on its little blue world had gotten out, everyone in the world would have undergone a similar shock, and society was in enough trouble right now without a global panic to make things worse.

A line in an American movie came back to him: 'A _person_ is smart; _people_ are stupid, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it.'

*Too bad Sciences hasn't figured out how to build a Neuralizer yet,* he thought with an internal chuckle. *That'd make my job a whole hell of a lot easier.*

***MILLENNIALS***

The meeting was over, and the other Directors had returned to their work. The Director of Sciences, however, remained behind, examining something on the small monitor before her.

"You can come out at any time," she said to the apparently empty room. After a moment of injured silence, a shadow took shape from the darkness and lowered itself into a seat on the other side of the table, the chair recently vacated by the Director of Information. "Something I can do for you?"

"You seemed distracted after I mentioned last night's intruder," the dull-voiced man said without preamble. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Answering that question in full would probably take up the rest of this year," Sciences replied in a rare flash of humor, "but with regards to that particular incident... do you remember the young lady we discussed a few weeks ago?"

"Meiou Setsuna?"

"Yes. Look at this." The monitor in front of Information lit up, displaying the map of Tokyo with the red-marked trail he had shown to the other Directors. A second red dot appeared on it, some distance from the spot which marked the site of the battle that had ended both the trail and its maker. "That is the location of the house where our odd young lady has been staying since she left the hospital, a location in no way relevant to the path of last night's creature. But that's not where she was last night."

"Oh?"

"She was here"—a third dot appeared—"visiting a sick friend." A few keys clicked, and the marked trail began to extend. It went directly through the area marked by the third dot. "Coincidence?"

"You don't believe that any more than I do," Information said.

"You're half right. Her friends, the ones present at New Year's, were also in that apartment, and as you'll recall, each of them has an extensive history of being singled out by these creatures. One—or all—of them could have been the target, and Miss Meiou could simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Again."

Information made a faint sound of neutral agreement. "Even so, we should probably intensify our observation, both of her and her friends. And perhaps others with histories of multiple attacks as well. Whatever it is about these people that drew so many hostiles to them before is likely to keep on earning them unwanted attention; if we have people in place, we might be able to do something about it."

"Agreed. You'll have to speak with Personnel about assigning more agents, though. I'll be up to my ears in details until the network and the field stations are finished."

"I understand." Information rose and faded into the darkness. A moment later, his voice drifted back. "By the way, how did you know so much about the girl's movements?" Though still a little dull, there was a distinct note of curiosity—and perhaps envy—in his voice.

"I have my sources," Sciences replied coolly. There was no reply, and the sense of Information's presence in the room was abruptly gone. Sciences smiled faintly; no doubt he'd spend a week trying to track down her 'sources,' and probably be tearing out his hair in frustration by the end. It would do him good; people who thought they knew everything always needed the occasional reminder to the contrary.

The Director of Sciences didn't think she knew everything, not by a longshot—but she _wanted_ to know, if not everything, then as much as was humanly possible. She accepted that there were gaps in her knowledge and then asked questions to fill those gaps. And in the process of asking those questions, she invariably discovered new, previously unknown gaps, which led to more questions, which led to more gaps. An endless cycle of learning. Some people would have found that to be a most depressing revelation; if anything, the knowledge that there would always be more mysteries somewhere around the corner reassured her, gave her the comfort that life, while it could and would be many things, would never be dull.

Right now, she was stuck on the question her colleague had put forward: why? Why did hostiles sometimes attack large numbers of people, and other times focus on individuals? What was it that made a single person more attractive than an entire crowd? What was it that made some of those people attractive enough to be attacked multiple times? Why did it seem as if all those people lived in Tokyo? What was the point, the pattern?

And how did Meiou Setsuna fit into it?

***MILLENNIALS***

"I don't know, Ikuko-chan." Setsuna smoothed the skirt and looked at her reflection. "This one doesn't seem to fit very well, either."

The two women were in the bedroom currently shared by Setsuna, Usagi, and ChibiUsa. A number of outfits lay on the beds, some belonging to Setsuna, some belonging to Ikuko; a few showed signs of having been tried on, while others were still looped over hangers.

Ikuko looked at the pale green skirt—one of hers—frowned, and then nodded. "You're right," she sighed. "Well, let's see what else we have left." She began sorting through the various skirts and dresses, muttering at each she picked up. After one more look in the mirror at the fit of the skirt—the color wasn't bad, but it was just too tight at the hips—Setsuna sighed.

This moment of fashion-oriented frustration had been building for several weeks. The generosity of the Tsukino family in taking her in was something Setsuna suspected she would never be able to repay in full, but for all the gratitude she felt, she also felt a certain sense of guilt at living off the efforts of others. She had been able to rid herself of some of that uneasiness by helping Ikuko keep up the house, and again, just the day before, by contributing some of the money she had left to help pay for the food she was eating. But looking at how little of that money was left had stirred up the same uncertainties Setsuna felt when she looked at the simple fact that Ikuko—for all her gentle smiles and words of thanks—didn't need anyone's help to maintain neatness and order in her home.

What had really helped her make the decision, though, had been the visit to the Moon, and Usagi's sad-eyed statement that there was nothing to be done for her lost memories. The last tiny hope floating in the back of Setsuna's mind, the chance that there might be something her extraordinary friends might be able to do, had been neatly extinguished. And strangely enough, that loss of hope didn't scare her. In a way, it had made her feel almost... content. Setsuna knew she would always regret the loss of her past, but she had cried all her tears for that pain already, and with the past gone, it was high time to start making something out of the present. She wanted—no, she _needed_ to get her life back on track. She needed to carry her own weight, to contribute something to the family who had shown her so much kindness.

In short, she needed a job.

She had explained her feelings to Ikuko while they were cleaning up the wreckage of this morning's breakfast. The older woman understood completely, had simply asked if she felt she was ready to face the outside world on that level, and after a single wordless nod of confirmation, given Setsuna her total support. They spent most of the morning checking through the newspaper and discussing various possibilities; Ikuko had been a housewife since well before the day Usagi had been born, but she'd gone through her share of jobs before that, and many of her friends worked as well, so she had a considerable store of advice for Setsuna on the requirements of this or that line of work, the realities of working in one job as opposed to what you _thought_ it was like, which jobs were good career opportunities and which were strictly short-term employment, and so on.

Building a resume had taken some time as well, and once it was done, Setsuna supposed she should thank whomever had blanked out her memories for being equally thorough in their 'adjustment' of reality; a call to the department of public records had turned up both high-school and university diplomas, things she needed but hadn't been entirely sure she possessed. The fellow on the other end of the line had been very understanding, and said she could drop to pick up hard copies of those records first thing in the morning if she wanted. A similar call to the university had produced a list of courses she had taken, and another understanding person who had read the specifics in turn. Her diploma credited her with a combined degree in economics and history, but the man at the registrar's office added minors in literature and languages, and a few extra courses besides. Setsuna went over the information floating around in her head and, after some careful consideration, decided that enough of it matched up with the disciplines her 'education' described.

Having done all that was possible until she could get copies of those records in the morning, Setsuna had turned her attention to the question of clothing; which was to say, whether or not she had the right things to wear to an interview or to work. After all, there was no sense in wasting time now that she might not have later. Ikuko had raided her own closet for any possibilities to round out Setsuna's admittedly limited wardrobe, but the green skirt was the fifth such garment to fail to fit the bill—or Setsuna.

Looking through the spread-out clothes, Setsuna's eyes fell on the one anomaly in her luggage—the ragged, baggy, threadbare blue jeans. Why, when everything else was either new or in nearly-new condition, had she been given something that hardly looked intact enough to use as dishrags, let alone to be worn? And which was about four sizes too large to boot? Every time she so much as glanced at the jeans, her fingers started to itch. Picking them up now, while Ikuko was busily examining a dark grey dress, Setsuna began to study the tattered jeans, turning them over in her hands, studying the stitching, what parts had worn thin and which were still reasonably intact.

"This is just too ridiculous," she said, poking a finger through a hole on the outside of the left leg, where the stitching had pulled out. "Ikuko-chan, if you don't mind, I've got to do something about this." Pausing only long enough to exchange the uncomfortable green skirt for her own pale purple one, Setsuna gathered up the jeans in the arm, her sewing machine in the other, and headed downstairs.

When Usagi arrived home with Minako and Urawa, they found Setsuna sitting at the kitchen table, her sewing machine and the contents of half of its little compartments before her. The jeans were almost unrecognizable as a scattered mass of material, including several small cut-out sections that Setsuna kept moving around, snipping at this bit with scissors, comparing that piece to two others and setting them all aside for a fourth, threading this and pulling out the stitches on that...

Usagi started to ask if Setsuna was going to visit Ami with the rest of them, then thought better of it; if the intensity on her face reflected even a tenth of the determination she had focused on this task, then it was doubtful that Setsuna would even hear her.

"How long has she been at that?" Usagi asked her mother.

"I hadn't eaten lunch yet when she started," Ikuko replied, "and she skipped it entirely. You're going to see Ami again?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in time for supper, though." Usagi glanced at Setsuna. "We're going to be eating in the living room tonight, aren't we?"

"We may," Ikuko agreed wryly.

Setsuna continued to work.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ami listened to Ryo's recounting of the vision as they sat together on Makoto's couch, once again drinking tea. Or more precisely, holding cups of tea; Ryo was too busy talking to drink his, and after an afternoon of having to put up with Makoto's bedside manner, Ami didn't want to so much as LOOK at anything her roommate might have had a hand in preparing. Makoto herself was absent, having dragged Usagi and Minako off to help her do some emergency shopping once they had seen that Ami was feeling much better. And the cats, as well. That part bugged Ami; she had wanted to talk to Luna about the information her computer had gathered while scanning the mana nexus, the data she could now review thanks to Queen Serenity. There hadn't been a chance to discuss it last night, with all the fuss kicked up by the appearance of a new daimon, and Makoto's well-intentioned attempt to give Ami more time alone with Ryo had robbed her of the chance to deal with something important.

As Ryo went on, though, Ami decided it was just as well that Makoto had conscripted the others.

"Dark blue eyes? Black hair, about this long?" She indicated a point just short of her own waist. "A little taller than Usagi?"

"Do you know her?"

Ami's mouth twisted sourly. "Fuunno Aneiko. Also known, once upon a time, as the Queen Bitch of Juuban Junior High."

Ryo blinked. Ami cursing was a new one on him; Ami cursing like she meant it was even more of a surprise. Then he frowned. "'Once upon a time?'"

"Mmmm." In spite of herself, Ami took a sip of the tea; there was a foul taste in her mouth all of a sudden. Not surprising, given the topic. "Aneiko's hobby used to be finding out people's secrets and then blackmailing them into doing what she wanted. She'd make up rumors about people who tried to stand up to her, or about people she didn't like, and she had a whole little circle of friends to help her. Usagi, Makoto, and I had some... problems... with them while we were fighting the Dark Kingdom."

"Such as?"

"The usual stuff people say about new kids; I was kicked out of my old school for cheating, Makoto was expelled for fighting, other things. And Usagi got dragged along since she was our friend. It's not really important anymore." She shook her head, clearing away bad memories. "The point is, after we fought Beryl and the year reset itself, Aneiko was suddenly not at Juuban anymore. Usagi remembered her a bit from the year before, but it was as if Mako-chan and I had never met her." Ami frowned, thinking. "My best guess is that the youma attacks must have changed decisions Aneiko and her parents made. Maybe they were going to send her to a boarding school or something and worried when they heard about monsters popping in from other dimensions, so they kept her close to home. But the second time around, with the Dark Kingdom gone..."

"Makes sense," Ryo agreed. "And now?"

"She transferred back after summer. I saw her one day in September and remembered everything, but I thought she might have changed, so I tried to forget. Then those rumors about Usagi-chan started going around." Her eyes were icy. "I had a few words with Aneiko about that while Mako-chan was... convincing the others to cut it out."

"I'm starting to get a pretty good idea of what kind of trouble she's going to cause." Ryo sighed.

Ami looked at the teacup in her hands, sloshing the brown liquid around as she thought. "Ryo-kun, I need to ask you a favor." Ami took a deep breath. "I don't want you to mention Aneiko, or your vision about her, to anyone else. No one."

"Why?"

"Think for a minute. You've seen that she's going to get hurt; we know it'll happen, and there's nothing we or anyone else can do about it. But if you tell Usagi-chan, she'll try to stop it and then, when Aneiko gets hurt anyway, think it's her fault for not trying harder. And if you tell any of the others, Usagi'll find out about it sooner or later. She's got enough to worry about with Setsuna and everything else that's been going on recently."

"You've got a point," Ryo admitted, obviously not liking it very much. He had the feeling that Ami wasn't quite telling him everything, and that bothered him. But in the end, he nodded. "Alright. I won't tell anyone. But you owe me for this, Ami."

She raised an eyebrow, something from yesterday coming back to her as she set aside the teacup. "I do, do I? Speaking of owing things, I seem to remember you offering to kiss me yesterday; you never did." Startled, Ryo blinked as she leaned forward slightly, smiling. "Now seems to be as good a time as any, don't you think?" Maybe it was the last lingering effect of her collapse, but Ami was feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, and a bit tingly. Warm, too, and slightly cool at the same time.

After a moment of indecision—*At a time like THIS?*—Ryo started to lean towards her. Suppressing an urge to giggle, Ami closed her eyes...

...and nearly jumped out of her skin as the front door banged open. "We're back!" Minako announced cheerfully, right on top of Makoto, who was telling her to get inside and quit letting the winter in. Makoto was herself speaking over Usagi's request for help with her share of the load.

For one brief, irrational moment, Ami wanted to strangle the lot of them.

***MILLENNIALS***

Eyes closed and breath coming in a slow, measured rhythm, Rei knelt before the flames, the locked and sealed Book of Ages laying on the floor in front of her. She had spent two hours last night studying the Book from every angle, reading and re-reading the weird script on the cover, trying to understand—or perhaps remember—what it said. She had given up and gone to bed, but just as her eyes closed, it occurred to her that she might find answers about the Book from the same source that she always turned to for help, the sacred flame. She had been so pleased with herself for thinking of it, so eager to try, that the entire day at school had simply flown past. She had felt a momentary regret for not joining Usagi and the others and visiting Ami, but she'd explained her idea when they met up after school, and everyone had approved of her going straight home to see if it worked.

That, she supposed, should have told her right away that the plan was doomed. Two hours—two!—of meditative focus and clearing of the mind had, for once, done nothing except send her feet to sleep and stiffen up her knees. Even more than failure and the wasted time and effort, that lack of reaction bothered Rei. She always experienced a brief rush as the images she sought appeared, and even when they did not appear, she still got a sense of _knowing_ that there would be no vision. But this time... absolutely nothing.

Sighing, Rei got to her feet, standing on one leg and flexing the other to work out some of the stiffness. She picked up the Book, looked at the dancing flames again, then sighed once more and went outside. After two hours in front of the fire, she was warm enough to stand being out in the cool afternoon air for at least a few minutes. And as she leaned against one of the columns along the walkway, it occurred to her that maybe the cold would inspire her to think faster.

There was a flutter and a blur of black to her left. She didn't have to turn to see one of her crows standing there, its head tilted so that one glossy black eye pointed straight towards her. Another flutter and blur, and the other appeared to her right, perched on the snow-dusted rim of the podium for the prayer bell. Watching her. Just like they always did.

Under the gaze of those black eyes, Rei remembered a certain unpretty, unpopular little girl of about six or seven, a child who was not specifically ugly but somehow always managed to have skinned knees, chewed fingernails, a dirty face, and tangles in long, black hair that she hated more than anything. A child who sometimes saw or heard things no one else ever noticed, who the other children stayed away from because she was 'weird.' A child who wanted her body to be able to soar away like her mind sometimes did, and who came very close to breaking a leg—not to mention her neck—when she jumped from a tree in an attempt to fly.

Blushing in embarrassment at the memory, Rei tried to tell herself that Usagi would fall over laughing if she ever found out about it. She didn't quite succeed.

There had been a crow in the tree that day, watching her, and when she got home, it or one just like it had been perched on the roof. And every day thereafter, it followed her. It would perch on her shoulder and let her brush its glossy feathers; it took food from her hand and flew away from or bit almost anyone else who tried to get close. Some people had talked about that, muttered that there was something strange and perhaps even unlucky about a child that had a crow following her everywhere. The other children started calling her 'bird-girl' and 'beaknose' and more names besides, flapping their arms at her like wings, making noises that were supposed to mimic the crow's rough cawing. A group of boys, angry that the bird wouldn't let them feed it, threw rocks and tried to catch it. They caught a round of bloody noses instead, and afterwards left the crow alone. Rei thought Makoto would have approved of her solution, but her parents certainly hadn't, and had sent her to bed without supper that night.

Rei used to think that the crow had come to her because it had somehow known what she was thinking when she fell past it, and had taken pity on her, given up a little of its freedom to stay with a little girl who wanted to fly so badly. She was proud of the names the other children called her, thought that if enough of them called her a bird, she might turn into one and be able to fly for real, fly away with her friend and touch the sky with her entire body, not just her mind.

One night, a year or so after her friend had found her, she was crying in her room when she got the idea to try and fly again. This time she didn't just want to touch the sky, but to fly all the way to Heaven, to find the only other person besides her that the crow had ever let touch it. She had climbed up to the roof and stood there, ready to fly, imagining flying forever, when another crow had fluttered out of the darkness and perched on the chimney, watching her. Not yet, it seemed to say. Not like this. Another way.

She had come to live with Grandpa, and found that other way, found that it had been part of her all along. As she learned how to control her unusual gift, she stopped dreaming about flying. And although the unpretty, unpopular little girl had grown up and learned that she really was pretty, that she really did have friends, her oldest friends, the crows, continued to stay with her.

Thinking about it, Rei wondered if her feathered friends might not, like Luna and Artemis, be more than they seemed. They were every bit as protective of her as Luna and Artemis were of Usagi and Minako: when she had confronted Jadeite and been swallowed up by a dark vortex, they had stuck by her; when Kaolinite had stolen her heart crystal, the birds had protected her from the Deathbuster and the daimon she had unleashed; they had even tried to fight Lead Crow. They did not speak, and they never showed signs of weird powers—or had they? They had both been hurt protecting her; Lead Crow had come very close to killing both of them, and yet they always seemed to recover. And how old were they? Nine, ten years? How long did crows usually live?

Because they belonged to themselves and not to her, Rei had chosen not to name the birds, but after hearing Ami talk about astronomy, Usagi had nicknamed them Phobos and Deimos. The names of the moons of Mars, but also names for the Greek deities of Fear and Rout; Rei hadn't cared for the implications of those names at all. Crows had a bad reputation as messengers of ill omen, as noisy, spiteful scavengers, and old legends about the tengu, the 'crow goblins,' remained popular even today. Even the proper name for a group of crows—a 'murder'—was grim and menacing, but _her_ crows were none of those things, and the idea that a cowardly, clumsy crybaby could so callously slap an undeserved label on her two oldest friends had hurt her more than a little. And then there was the obvious risk to her secret identity; _somebody_ was bound to put two and two together if they saw a girl who looked a little like Sailor Mars calling two birds by _those_ names.

She had forgiven Usagi a long time ago, and while she nearly never spoke the names aloud, Rei still sometimes found herself thinking them. Because it had been watching her when she fell, when she fought gravity and lost, the larger crow was Deimos; the smaller one, the one that had flown to her on a night when she was scared and crying, was Phobos. She wasn't a zoologist, but Rei thought Deimos was male, and Phobos, female; whether or not they were mated, she had no idea, but since there had never been any baby crows around, she doubted it.

"Do you two like being called Phobos and Deimos," Rei asked quietly, "or do you have names of your own? Would you tell me if you did?"

Deimos preened at one of his wings; Phobos fluttered over and perched on Rei's shoulder, looking at her face. For a moment, Rei actually thought the bird was going to say something, but then the black head tilted to look down towards her hand, and she chuckled.

"No, no food in there." Rei rapped her knuckles on the Book's cover. "Even if I could get it open. But I'm not going to give up after just one day," she added determinedly. "I'll figure it out."

Phobos' caw seemed to approve; either that, or she was hungry. And feeling the slight hollowness in her own stomach that came from skipping dinner, Rei decided that food might not be such a bad idea. She dropped the Book off in her room, retrieved and scattered some feed for her friends, who set to pecking it up with a will, and then headed for the kitchen to see what she could find for herself.

In her room, forgotten for the moment, the Book of Ages lifted itself—or was lifted—from the floor, to drift steadily through the air before it settled neatly on the low table. Outside, Phobos and Deimos looked up from their meal, casting about with their eyes before flapping nervously up to the roof. Coming back a few minutes later with a couple of sandwiches and a glass of milk, Rei didn't notice that they had left nearly half of their meal untouched—strange behavior for any crow, even this pair—but once in her room, she definitely noticed that the Book had somehow covered six or seven feet of space by itself.

Suddenly, she wasn't feeling quite so hungry.

***MILLENNIALS***

"Inhale." Ami took a deep breath—"Hold."—held it—"Exhale."—and let it go. "Roll your eye to the left. To the right. Up. And down. Quack like a duck." Ami almost started to do that, too, then frowned.

"Very funny, Mother."

Mrs. Mizuno smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "The patient is stubborn, refuses to follow doctor's orders."

"'The patient' is tired of being cooped up indoors," Ami retorted in the same clinical tone. "'The patient' would _like_ to get back to her life."

"Has she been this cranky all day?"

"On and off," Makoto reported. "She was more than a little upset that I let her sleep in on a school day, and it's gone downhill from there."

"Then I'd say she's feeling better." Mrs. Mizuno laughed. "Every time she got sick as a child, you could tell that she was feeling better when she got angry."

"So I can go to school tomorrow, then?"

"Whatever it was you had seems to have cleared up, so as long as you don't overexert yourself, I don't see why not. And I trust you _will_ take it slowly?" she added.

Ami sighed. "Yes, Mother."

"Good. And how are you feeling, Mako-chan? Any fever, dizziness?" Makoto shook her head, and Ami's mother sighed. "I see."

"You sound almost disappointed."

"Stymied, actually. I'm still not sure exactly what this was. The symptoms, the onset, the duration; the only conditions I can think of that fit are all ferociously contagious, but since nobody else has gotten sick... Ami, you didn't by any chance miss your period this month, did you?"

"No. I. Did. Not." Ami's voice had gone flat. She tacked on a belated, "Mother."

"Just covering all the bases," Mrs. Mizuno said lightly. "After all, better safe than sorry, especially with a handsome young man around. Wouldn't you agree, Mako-chan?"

"Oh, definitely. Can't leave those two unsupervised for a minute without them all over each other." Makoto's grin was wicked.

"Makoto!"

"Is that so? Well, Ami, just remember that I'd rather put off being a grandmother for a few more years yet. Having said that, though," Mrs. Mizuno added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "as long as you're careful..."

"MOTHER!"

***MILLENNIALS***

As anticipated, the Tsukinos ate supper in the living room. Ikuko usually insisted they eat at the table, but since that was still being monopolized by Setsuna, she relented for once.

Usagi, eating much more slowly than usual so as not to spill anything on the couch or carpet, wondered about Setsuna's sudden obsession with sewing, to say nothing of how well she seemed to be going about it; she herself could barely thread a needle without sticking her finger at least twice, and her mother's expertise was limited to patching holes and tears. And knitting. Ikuko was a very good knitter; the pink scarf with the white bunny on the end that Usagi was so fond of was her mother's work. Setsuna had at least the air of someone who knew what they were doing; only time would tell if it was just an act, or if she had the skill to back it up.

With everyone being careful about their food and drinks, supper was still some distance from being done when the sounds of sewing machine and scissors finally stopped. Footsteps followed, heading down the hall to the nearest washroom, then came back a few minutes later.

Setsuna entered the room and struck a pose. "What do you think?"

Usagi's eyes boggled. *Those _can't_ be the same jeans.* Tattered and oversized had been replaced by intact and snug. More than snug. To be honest, Usagi couldn't see how Setsuna was able to move; those jeans were tight at the waist, tight at the ankle, and didn't appear to loosen up at all in between. They were the kind of pants that make onlookers very much aware of the legs beneath, and were in their own way even more revealing than the standard Senshi miniskirt. Usagi couldn't quite understand how at first, but then she realized that, short as they were, miniskirts were still long enough so that you could at least _walk_ without worrying that everyone was staring at your butt; the jeans, on the other hand, practically invited attention.

"Very nice," Ikuko said. "How'd you manage to patch them up so neatly?"

"I had to pick out the stitching on the legs, and since they were a bit baggy to begin with, I trimmed some of the extra material before I stitched the legs back up. And the fold between the two halves hides some of the holes on the sides. The knees, now," Setsuna added with a critical glance, "were a bit trickier to hide." She blinked, then smiled a bit nervously. "Just don't ask me how I knew to do it all."

"Ikuko," Kenji said after a moment, "do you suppose Hanna and Annah might like to meet Setsuna?"

"I thought about that a few times this afternoon," Ikuko agreed. Noticing Setsuna's puzzled look, she explained. "The Sousei sisters, Hanna and Annah, are old friends of mine who own a clothing store at the mall. Hanna sells suits and the like in the left-hand part of the shop, Annah works mostly with dresses in the right, and they've got a section in the middle with a lot of off-the-rack items; T-shirts, socks, that sort of thing. They do in-store alterations and take quite a few special orders, and they're always saying they could use another pair of hands."

"That might be interesting," Setsuna admitted. "And I do seem to know at least a little of what I'm doing." Then she shook her head with a pained expression. "'Hanna' and 'Anna?'"

"Annah," Ikuko corrected, pronouncing the last syllable slightly differently. "Say one sister's name backwards, and you get the other. It's a joke they've been playing since we were in high school, but they both take it pretty seriously." She glanced at the clock. "I don't think I'll be able to get ahold of them tonight, but I can call them at work tomorrow and see about setting up a meeting for you, if you'd like."

Setsuna nodded. "I'd appreciate it. Is there any of that chicken left?"

"And some rice. It should still be fairly warm. But make sure you put away your things before you eat," Ikuko added sternly. Setsuna smiled, turned, and walked—no, _swayed_—back to the kitchen. Usagi wondered if she could get the older girl to teach her how to move like that after ChibiUsa was born and she'd slimmed down again; the imagined look that would produce on Mamoru's face made her chuckle wickedly.

Usagi frowned and turned back to the living room. A weird sort of choking noise had interrupted her good humor, and her first thought was that either someone's dinner had gone down the wrong way, or Luna was yacking up a hairball. But Luna was nowhere in the room, her parents were talking, ChibiUsa had gotten up to follow Setsuna to the kitchen, and Shingo was... staring at his plate so intently that she immediately suspected something was up. _Nobody_ looks at something with that kind of focus unless they're purposely trying _not_ to look at something else. And why would he be blushing?

The answer hit her, and Usagi bit back what could have been either rueful laughter or a shocked spluttering. She had the image of the annoying, runty little brother fixed so firmly in her head that she was sometimes surprised to realize that Shingo was growing up, too, with everything that entailed. And yes, from time to time she'd stopped to consider that he was probably going to develop a crush on at least one of her friends sooner or later. Actually, it was a subject she liked to tease them about, Ami in particular. Considering that time Shingo had saved Ami from one of the Dead Moon Circus' lemures by baiting the thing into chasing him until the other Senshi arrived, or when _she'd_ saved _him_ with a well-timed application of CPR... suffice to say, Ami got a little defensive whenever somebody suggested there might be more to either incident, and Shingo wasn't much better. That, Usagi could have dealt with.

But SETSUNA?

***MILLENNIALS***

Minako was doing a little reading under the light of her bedside lamp, turning pages with one hand while idly scratching Artemis' ears and chin with the other; the white cat had long ago thrown dignity aside in an attempt to get her to rub his belly, which had worked beautifully. Luna would have snorted in disgust at the display, called Artemis several unflattering names, and then stuck him with her claws a few times for good measure. Minako probably wouldn't have noticed the ruckus that hypothetical scratch would have caused; she was perhaps a quarter of the way through the book—the size of which would likely have startled her friends—frowning, and occasionally moving her lips as she read. The title read 'War and Peace.'

In Minako's defense, it must be said that reading the book had started out as an assignment from the teacher of the advanced English class at Juuban. Of the four Senshi attending that school, only she and Ami were taking said 'advanced' course, and Minako was prouder than anything that she was actually getting higher marks than her friend. Slightly higher. Sometimes. But what had begun as an assignment to 'expose you to the great literary works of the world' had turned into a personal crusade. They were only supposed to have read a few chapters, just to get a sense of what the story was written like, but once in, she'd gotten hooked and kept on going. The fact that Ami—until she got sick— had been reading the entire book as well had absolutely nothing to do with Minako's desire to finish the thing. Or so she kept telling herself and Artemis.

The phone rang downstairs, then her mother called up, "Miiinaaa! Telephone!"

"Hang on a sec!" Setting the book aside, Minako reached over, turned her phone on—she shut it off at night so she could sleep even if anyone called; anything important would come over her communicator—and lifted the receiver. "Got it!" When she was certain she'd heard the click of the other phone being hung up, she spoke. "Minako the Magnificent here, how can I brighten your evening?"

"It's me, Mina-chan," Rei's voice said. "Is Artemis there?"

"Hey, Rei-chan. Yes, he's right here." Out of habit, she paused to make sure there wasn't any trace of muffled breathing—her mother was forever trying to listen in on her daughter's 'personal calls'—then lowered her voice even though the door to her room was closed. "If this is something to do with Senshi business, I'd feel a little better if you talked to him over the communicator."

"Usagi might try to listen in if I did, and I don't want to bother her with this."

"Oh. Gotcha. It's for you," Minako said, holding the phone so she could still listen while Artemis spoke into it.

"Hello?"

"Artemis, it's about the Book."

"Did you get it open already?"

"No, it's still locked. Actually, I've been trying to focus on it for about four hours today, and I haven't gotten a thing. But that's not why I called. Artemis... can the Book... can it move by itself?"

Artemis and Minako blinked. "'Move by itself'?" they asked in unison.

"I left it on the floor in my room when I went to get something for supper, right next to the door. When I came back, it was on the table."

"Uhhh... I'm not sure about that, Rei. I was under the impression that the Book's only powers were the information it contains, how it keeps that information sealed up, and the fact that it's supposed to be the next best thing to indestructible."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that." Rei sighed. "All right. When you see her tomorrow, can you ask Luna to meet me on the way home from T*A? But don't tell Usagi," she added. "I don't want to scare her."

"Right. But Rei... you be careful tonight, okay?"

"I just spent an hour setting wards up around my room," she replied wryly. "Kunzite himself couldn't get in here without leveling the place first."

Artemis chuckled. "Goodnight, Rei."

"Goodnight, Artemis. Mina-chan."

"G'bye." Minako hung up and switched off the phone, then looked at Artemis. "It moves, huh?"

"Apparently so."

They held each other's gazes in silence for a long moment before Minako got out of bed and lifted the top mattress; Gladius remained where she had put it, the only spot in her room she could be reasonably sure her mother wouldn't go digging into by chance. She'd packed enough extra blankets around the stone sword to prevent the impression of the thing from keeping her awake, and as long as she remembered to make the bed in the mornings, nobody would notice. But of all the things to have tucked away under her bed, this was about the last she would ever have imagined, and that fact alone had made it hard to sleep last night.

"And it can move too?"

"It's been known to happen."

"And there's no way to make it smaller?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Great."

***MILLENNIALS***

Not much happened that night.

Rei maintained a vigil in her room until nearly midnight, but nothing disturbed the protective aura generated by her wards, and the Book did not move again, so she finally called it a night and went to sleep. Towards one o'clock, when she was far into sleep, one of the kanji-marked paper wards stirred as if caught by a brief, passing breeze; even asleep, Rei's mind sensed the disturbance, and she stirred faintly. When the ward stopped moving, so did Rei, lapsing into dreams where she wandered in a library filled with wind-driven papers.

Minako and Artemis slept soundly and without interruption. Gladius did not so much as twitch, or even flicker, but Minako had an odd dream too, one in which she was holding a sword and chasing Ami across a landscape that was made up entirely out of book pages. Artemis dreamed mostly about tuna.

Elsewhere, Ami and Makoto also slept peacefully. Well, sort of peacefully. Makoto was dreaming about a bright-eyed member of the boys' soccer team, while Ami was dreaming about forcing Makoto to eat a mountainous pile of pancakes and drink a small lake of tea. Despite the marked differences in the nature of their respective dreams, they were both smiling contentedly for much of the night.

The apartment where Proteus' victim dwelt remained filled with the greenish substance, all of it glowing a dull red from within as the experiment continued. Proteus did not sleep, but instead carefully observed every tiny detail of its project.

Probably the strangest thing that happened that night was at the Tsukino house. Someone walking down the street at around one-thirty—an unlikely occurrence—might have spotted a humanoid shape standing among the shadows on the second floor balcony, looking in on a room where two young women, one younger girl, and a cat lay in various states of sleep. Saturn smiled faintly; she could hear Usagi and ChibiUsa snoring even through the glass door. Yawning, she decided that she might as well turn in for the night, and after one last look at her friends, she set out for home—where, just to be fair, it can be said that Michiru and Haruka were both well into the middle stages of REM activity. Haruka was dreaming about a grand prix race against every monster she'd ever fought, driving some truly bizarre vehicles, while Michiru's dream involved Haruka and a large swimming pool, and was just slightly naughty.

Had Saturn hung around on the bedroom balcony a few minutes longer, she might have heard another sound over the snoring, a soft series of sighing chimes and crystalline tinkling coming from somewhere in the room. And even if she hadn't heard that, she would definitely have noticed a few moments later when the little bird-shaped glass sculpture on the shelf above Usagi's bed started to glow with a pale, reddish-orange light, casting rainbows of color and shadow across the room.

Under that shattered spectrum, Usagi was dreaming about Mamoru; so was ChibiUsa, though in very different terms. Luna dreamt about herself, in her human form, which did not seem quite so terrible in a dream as it had during her brief transformation the previous evening. And Setsuna saw the same thing that had been in her dreams every night since her arrival, from the moment she slipped into true sleep until the split second when she woke in the mornings.

A tall, ornamented staff shaped rather like a huge key, floating through an infinity of mists and mirrors...

***MILLENNIALS***

"YEEEE-HAAAH!"

Two of these surprise visits in a week, Michiru decided as she sat up to survey the impact damage, was definitely pushing things. Not for the first time, she considered getting a lock installed on the bedroom door. And also not for the first time, she dismissed the idea; if Saturn really wanted in, it was going to take one truly amazing lock to keep her out.

Hotaru was more or less ignoring Michiru this morning, putting all her attention on Haruka, who was struggling unsuccessfully to escape a storm of little-girl kisses and hugs.

"Off! Off!"

"Happy birthdaaaaay!" With the force of that exuberant congratulations, both Haruka and Hotaru fell over the side of the bed with a pair of startled shouts and a muffled whump. Michiru started giggling, then toppled sideways on the mattress in full-blown hilarity when they both peered over the edge. Haruka looked at Hotaru; Hotaru looked at Haruka. As one, they nodded, then jumped forwards. Michiru was not especially ticklish, but Haruka knew of a few spots even her iron self-control couldn't stand up to; and Hotaru made up for not knowing those weak points with sheer enthusiasm. Michiru's laughter took on a note of desperation as she tried and failed to fight off the attack.

"I—mmph!—s-s-surrender—ha!—cut it out you—hoo, ha, ha!" Haruka's grinning face appeared in Michiru's field of vision, upside-down and with her nightshirt in some danger of slipping off one shoulder. Smiling, Michiru put one hand on the back of Haruka's neck and lifted her own head slightly for a light kiss. "Happy birthday, Haruka." Michiru's smile didn't fade in the slightest when she added, "Hotaru, get her."

Haruka was still blinking when Hotaru jumped on her again. Michiru followed about a second later, and it was the birthday girl's turn to try and defend herself.

"Off! Haamph! I said—ha!—off! Not the knee—hee, hee, hee! Ha! Quit it!"

***MILLENNIALS***

Setsuna wondered if she might not have made a mistake.

Ikuko had made that promised phonecall at midmorning, and her friends had proven more than amenable to meeting Setsuna after lunch. She and Ikuko had left the house and caught a bus shortly after that call had ended, headed first to the department of public records. The employee that met them at the front desk turned out to be the same helpful fellow Setsuna had spoken to over the phone, a grey-haired, grey-eyed fellow of average height who was as good as his word, and had copies of all the information she'd been after. In the middle of watching him work, Setsuna had been struck by a very odd feeling, almost like the one Usagi had triggered in her that first night—a sense of recognition, of knowing someone without actually knowing them.

"Excuse me," she'd asked, "but have we met? You seem... familiar... for some reason."

The fellow had seemed momentarily startled, but then he just chuckled. "I'm told I have one of those faces. I don't see it, myself, but that's what they tell me."

It wasn't until ten minutes later, on a bus headed for the mall where the Sousei sisters ran their store, that Setsuna realized the man's reply had completely failed to answer her question. And ten minutes later, she was too busy meeting Ikuko's friends to worry about it.

As she had guessed from their names and Ikuko's descriptions, Hanna and Anna-with-an-'h'-on-the-end were twins. They had the same soft brown hair and eyes, the same above-average height and slender build. As far as beauty went, they were somewhere in the comfortable range between 'handsome' and 'pretty,' though to look at them side-by-side, Hanna was just a touch sturdier, Annah slightly more delicate. Their voices were indistinguishable, and they were wearing carbon-copies of the same outfit, dark blue vest and skirt over pale white blouse. They were very happy to see Ikuko again, pleased to meet Setsuna, and just a touch put out that she seemed able to tell them apart at a glance.

After several minutes of catching up, Ikuko had fallen silent and stood aside as the sisters proceeded to question Setsuna. 'Interrogate' was probably a more accurate description. They asked what she knew about fashion in general and sewing in particular; with information that essentially catalogued the length of recorded history drifting around in her head, Setsuna was more at a loss for where to begin than for something to say. Hanna asked a number of technical questions nobody but a seamstress could have understood, and got equally technical responses; Annah handed over a sketchpad and described an outfit she was working on in only the vaguest possible terms, and blinked when she received the pad back with a complete drawing on the front sheet, along with a few details she had left out. They both asked to see the jeans—technical and artistic skill counting for nothing if Setsuna couldn't actually thread a needle or stitch a seam—and seemed to try everything in their combined power that might unearth a fault.

In the end, the sisters grudgingly agreed that Setsuna 'might work out,' and asked whether she was available to start right away, their faces going from sour and disbelieving to eagerly hopeful so fast that Setsuna did a double-take.

"Just for the rest of the afternoon," Hanna said immediately. "So you can get an idea of how we work and whether or not you can handle it." She frowned, then admitted, "We've gone through three assistants since this past September, and to be honest, we could really use the help." Ikuko had no objection to the arrangement and headed home, though only after making Setsuna promise to let Hanna and Annah drive her back instead of trying to catch the bus or a taxi.

Three hours later, Setsuna paused in the middle of measuring off a length of fabric to watch from the corner of one eye as the sisters argued over something. It was the seventh such incident that afternoon, and it was as loud as anything Setsuna had witnessed between Usagi and Rei or Usagi and ChibiUsa. If it was a daily or even weekly thing, she could understand what had driven away three previous workers. Still, life with the Tsukinos had helped her find the trick of tuning out this sort of thing, and she admitted to herself that she was enjoying the work. Even though she didn't entirely understand why.

Glancing through the door that separated the front of the shop from the working room in the back, Setsuna blinked. What were Michiru and Haruka doing here?

*Stupid question,* she thought a moment later, grinning wryly as Michiru pulled a dark grey coat off the rack and held it consideringly up in front of Haruka.

The opportunity was too good to pass up. Setting down the materials in her hands, Setsuna slipped out through the door and walked up behind the pair. Haruka's back was to her, and Michiru was going through the rack of suit-coats again; evidently the grey had failed to meet one or both of their standards. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, as a matter of f-AAAH!" Michiru jumped, clutching another coat as if it were a shield. "Don't DO that!" she snapped, breathing heavily.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." Michiru made as if to hit her with one hand, or maybe it was just Setsuna's imagination playing tricks as the blue-haired girl put the coat she was holding back in its place. One of the two cashiers/salespersons who worked here, a rail-thin young man named Guomo, chuckled audibly; when Michiru spun to confront the source of that sound, she found only a sober, serious expression of innocence. She glared at Guomo, then turned her attention to the other employee, Ifumi, a pretty brunette whose face went wide with surprise at the accusing look.

Haruka was fighting off a smile; she had jumped a bit, too, but not nearly as much. And she definitely hadn't yelled. "She's been having a bad day. Hotaru woke us up with one of her little bombing runs this morning, and Michiru's agent called at around ten with some ideas that really needed to be shot down. That lasted until one, and she hasn't been fit to live with since."

"I'll remember you said that," Michiru promised.

Setsuna smiled. "So what are you doing here?"

"We could ask you the same thing."

"As of about three hours ago, I work here." They both looked at her in surprise, slightly tinged with concern. "I'm fine, really. In fact, I'm better than fine. I haven't felt quite this... I think the word I want is 'normal.' Yes. I haven't felt this normal since I got here."

"I never really went for the 'normal' lifestyle," Haruka noted. "Too bland. But if you're sure..."

"I am. Now, before my new employers let go of each other's throats long enough to start wondering why I'm not still working on that suit they left with me, is there something you two were after?"

"A birthday suit," Michiru said. Setsuna blinked, unsure whether she was supposed to laugh, stop short, or just nod her head, but Michiru was already explaining. "Haruka claims to hate surprise birthday parties, so to keep me from throwing one, she lets me make dinner reservations at a restaurant and then pick out a suit for her to wear. I chose a blue dress with gold trim for the occasion this year, and she needs something to match."

"I see." The look Setsuna directed her way then made Haruka feel as if she were being stripped naked, weighed and measured, and then hung up for sale somewhere. Then Setsuna turned to the selection of suits. "Black would be too dark, and grey too pale. Brown? No... ah..." She drew out a metallic blue coat and held it up. "I think this would go nicely with her eyes, and since her hair's already gold, that would match with your dress, wouldn't it?"

Michiru moved around to stand next to Setsuna and added her own slice-and-dice look, then nodded with a wide, approving smile. Haruka began to get a sickly, sinking feeling in her stomach as the pair hauled her off in search of the rest of the suit.

***MILLENNIALS***

The experiment continued. What was in the pod, what _had_ been Hiroshi, was now something very different. More, in some ways, and less in others. Proteus had continued to monitor the incubator's progress throughout the night and into this day, making adjustments where they appeared necessary, recording each and every detail. Soon, now, it would be time to move on to the next phase of the experiment, to...

Something caught the entity's attention. An unplanned change in the incubator, taking place on a massive scale, too sudden and complete to stop or even slow.

*It is not time!* Proteus shouted at the thing that should have been under its control. *You are not ready yet! _I_ am not ready yet!*

No good; the change accelerated. Chemicals that were not supposed to mix went ahead and did so, wall sockets that should have continued to feed the pod a steady flow of energy surged with power before blowing themselves out, and the physical shape of the thing began to warp and tear. Desperate, Proteus calculated whether or not a second infusion of energy would be sufficient to pacify its awakening creation. The risk of detection from another power burst was considerable, but if the creature were to break loose...

It became a moot point as, with a great ripping noise, the fleshy substance of the incubator parted. A chemical soup spilled onto the carpet, threatening to dissolve it and perhaps the floor beneath until Proteus put forth what little control it had left to spread an absorptive blanket of green over the surface, soaking up the spill before any permanent harm was done. There might still be a chance to avoid detection, so long as it minimized the signs of...

The shape in the apartment threw itself at the nearest wall. Limbs that were not quite arms extended towards the surface, extending digits that were not quite fingers. The incubator, responding to Proteus' will, lashed out with creepers and tried to halt its offspring, but the misshapen thing responded with creepers of its own, creepers tipped by short hooks of what might have been bone, and sliced free of its 'parent.' Proteus commanded more creepers, and still more when those failed. And while the creature's attention was diverted, Proteus ordered a patch of itself near the apartment balcony to unlock and slide open the door.

When the last of the creepers fell away, the creature turned towards the floor of air, recognizing in some fashion that this led out. It wanted to go out; that was part of the program Proteus had installed, and that program was too powerful to ignore.

Proteus slid the door shut behind its creation and set about hiding all traces that either of them had ever been in this place. The thickly-clustered green substance receded into the walls and vanished, taking with it the corrosive slimes of the incubator. In the computer networks, Proteus erased all records of that apartment ever having been owned by a man named Tanaka Hiroshi, erased every last trace that the man had ever existed. With the information it had absorbed from his mind these last few weeks, it knew exactly where to look.

Midway through its data purge, Proteus noted that, although it could no longer exercise any sort of control, the device that had been implanted on Hiroshi's neck was still functioning, somewhere inside the creature. It could not control, but it could monitor.

Perhaps the experiment was not a complete failure.

***MILLENNIALS***

Rei pulled her coat a little tighter and walked a little faster. Setting aside Monday's freak blizzard, it had been getting warmer over the last few days, but today's chilly, gusting wind was more than making up the difference.

Luna appeared atop a low wall. "Sorry I'm late, Rei."

"It's okay. Did Artemis tell you what I said about the Book?"

"He did." Luna grimaced. "And as much as I hate to admit it, for once I've got no more ideas about something than he does. Did anything else happen last night?"

"Nothing unusual. The wards were all intact when I woke up, and the Book didn't move again." The wind gusted again, and Rei shivered. "Do you mind if we walk while we talk?"

"Not at all." Luna jumped down from the wall and into Rei's arms.

"That's not quite what I had in mind, Luna."

"I'd imagine not."

In spite of herself, Rei laughed. "You're as bad as Usagi, you know that?"

"Talking to yourself, Rei-san?"

Rei and Luna both nearly swallowed their tongues. Turning, Rei saw that Keiko and Anya had hurried to catch up with her. "Keiko, don't sneak up on me like that!"

Keiko smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Rei-san. I promise I'll find some other way to sneak up on you in the future." Rei glared at her for a moment longer, then let out a sound part-way between a sigh and a laugh.

"That's a beautiful cat," Anya said. "Is she yours?"

"No. This is Luna; she lives with Usagi. Luna, this is Anya. And you remember Keiko, don't you?" Keiko waved with the fingers of her left hand, and Luna meowed a suitably kitty response. *Wasn't she the girl with the odd sense of humor who...* Luna broke off the thought as a weird sensation rippled across her awareness. *What is that? It feels... it feels like trouble. Is it coming from one of them?*

Anya had been about to scratch Luna behind the ear, and her hand had stopped short when Luna's head turned.

"She doesn't bite, Anya." Anya smiled and patted Luna on the head with a touch of nervousness. Luna's eyes narrowed. *Is that coming from her? What _is_ it?* Then she wrinkled her nose. *Uggh... what is that awful smell?*

Rei paused suddenly as a warning flashed from her subconscious. As she started to look around, Keiko blinked in confusion. "Is something wrong, Rei- san?"

"There's something out there," Rei said softly. "It's close." Anya looked at her for a moment, then sniffed at the air and nearly gagged.

"Do either of you smell that?"

Rei and Keiko had just enough time to catch a truly foul reek on the wind before something big and fast-moving appeared, its green-grey outer hide—or whatever—trailing a mass of rope-thick tendrils and steaming in the chill as if it had just emerged from a hot bath or shower. It looked a little humanoid, but only in the sense of how it had been arranged; four limbs ended in twice the number of digits Rei had ever seen on any normal animal's arm or leg, while its head, riding low between the massive shoulders, looked like it had been flattened. And then there were the vine-like growths trailing from its back.

In all, the thing looked like a plant trying to be a human, but without much success. Seven feet tall and three feet wide, it knocked all three girls down as it tore past them, huge and grotesque feet tipped with little rootlets digging into the ground and ripping small chunks out of the concrete with each step. Looking at those tracks, Rei had a horrible vision of what might happen if that thing were to step on one of them. It was, fortunately, only a product of her imagination and not an actual glimpse of the future, but between that and the stench, she was ready to be sick. Then she saw the direction the freakish thing was headed, and her stomach turned to ice.

"Are you two all right?" she said quickly, noting that Luna had already vanished in pursuit of the creature.

"Yes, just a little..." Anya started to say, positively green in the face. "What _was_ that thing?"

"I don't want to know," Keiko said immediately, shuddering.

Rei nodded. "Head back to the school and get somebody to call the police. I've got to find Usagi before... I've got to make sure she's..." She took off at a dead run.

"Wait!" Anya half-shouted, reaching out and letting her hand fall when she realized Rei, already clear down the street, hadn't heard.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ryo nearly collided with a telephone pole when the vision hit him, a single, brief image of someTHING he'd never seen before accompanied by an almost overwhelming sense of danger.

"GET BACK!" he shouted, catching hold of Ami's shoulder with one hand, Minako's elbow with the other. Minako's indignant squawk and Ami's startled exclamation were both drowned out by a splintering sound from the wall to their left. Bits of brick went flying as something massive tore through in an explosive unleashing of raw force, knocking everyone off their feet. Ryo and Ami caught each other as they fell and slid sideways back down the sidewalk, and Artemis let out a loud yowl of protest as Minako fell on him; on the other side of the blast, Makoto had practically enveloped Usagi, then somehow managed to turn both their bodies in mid-air so that hers was the one to hit the ground first.

The wall-buster took off at a shambling run, indifferent to their presence. Or maybe it just didn't see them through all the dust and flying snow.

Rei came around the corner a few moments later, just as they were all getting up. "Are you all right?" she said immediately. There was no question who she was directing the inquiry to.

"We're fine," Usagi replied. "I take it you saw that... thing?"

Luna appeared atop what was left of the wall. "We did. It ran right past us."

"It's another one of those fungus monsters, isn't it?" Minako demanded, dusting herself off.

"I'm not sure." Rei frowned. "It looks a little like them, but its shape is... wrong, somehow. They were all as springy as elastic, but this one's a lot more solid. And the others didn't have roots, did they?" At the startled glances, she pointed to the holes in the sidewalk and the road, which continued up to a blasted-out gap in the wall across the street.

"Where do you suppose it's going?" Makoto asked, trying to remember what lay in the direction the creature's trail was pointed.

Minako took out her transformation pen. "I know one way to find out."

***MILLENNIALS***

Rei was staying with Usagi, and Ryo couldn't have followed anyway, but there had been a bit of a heated argument when Ami announced that she was coming with Venus and Jupiter. They all pointed out that her last attempt to transform had literally blown up in her face, and that she was supposed to be taking it easy, but she ignored both points and pulled out her transformation pen anyway. The change went off without a hitch, but Mercury didn't look much better than she had before, and it was only after she had promised—three times—to hang back and let the others do the fighting that they agreed to let her go. Ryo had added something about her owing him another one, which for some reason brought a healthy blush to Mercury's cheeks; the blush probably helped more than anything else to convince the others she up to the task.

She had no trouble keeping up with Venus and Jupiter as they chased the creature, and her visor and computer were working as well as ever, but Mercury still couldn't shake off a slight nervousness. The transformation had worked this time, but there had been a moment or two when she was almost certain she was about to lose it. And even now, she didn't feel completely right; the physical benefits of strength and speed and reflexes were all there, but there was a kind of hollow, unfinished sensation riding at the edge of her awareness. It was a feeling almost exactly opposite to the sense of gathering energy that preceded the use of a Senshi attack, and Mercury suspected that it really would go better for her if she didn't try to use her powers.

*Worry about it if it comes to a fight,* she chided herself. *For right now, keep your mind on the problem at hand.*

She was trying to figure out where this latest creature was headed. Walls did not slow it appreciably, although it seemed to be intelligent enough to realize that going over or around buildings would be much easier than trying to batter through a dozen or more of the walls within. It didn't seem to be taking any interest in people, either, which was very unusual. But then again, as Rei had pointed out, this one wasn't like the other fungus beings; Mercury's analysis showed some similarities in its makeup, but more about it was different than the same.

Her computer beeped, alerting her that the creature's energy field was generating a steady series of high-frequency pulses, and Mercury recognized the phenomenon immediately. *Radio waves. The thing's transmitting radio waves.* Her eyes narrowed. If it was transmitting, someone, somewhere, had to be receiving.

The thought came to her that this creature might be a decoy, sent in to lure the Senshi out, observe their behavior and fighting styles, and transmit what it learned back to its masters before it was overcome and destroyed. Past foes had never tried that tactic, and Mercury feared it might be very successful; part of the reason the commanders of the various dark forces had been so much more difficult to defeat than their minions was not just due to their greater strength, but because they had frequently faced the Senshi beforehand, had a chance to learn how they fought as individuals and worked together as a team. The thought of an entire _army_ of superhuman creatures with access to that kind of knowledge was more than a little disturbing.

"Jupiter!" Mercury called out. "Can you hit that thing on the move?"

***MILLENNIALS***

The blue jacket had been joined by grey pants, a starched shirt, and—despite some heated objections from Haruka—a red necktie. She had been silently grateful that the Sousei sisters didn't sell shoes as well, and then had to talk _very_ fast when Annah suggested they stop by a shoe store just down the hall.

*I suppose I should count my blessings that these two didn't try to color-coordinate me down to my socks and underwear.* She glanced sideways at Michiru and Setsuna, then shook her head. After outfitting Haruka for the evening, Setsuna had informed Hanna and Annah that she wouldn't need a ride, and, shouting matches or not, she fully intended to be back tomorrow. The sisters had been glad to hear it; Guomo and Ifumi gave her looks that said she really ought to reconsider that last part if she valued her sanity. Now they were on their way to the parking lot.

"I'd still feel better if you let me at least _look_ for something," Setsuna was saying. Haruka sighed. One reason she tried to keep her birthdays quiet was that it saved her from having to deal with the awkwardness of accepting gifts she really had no use for.

"I think we can accept the help you gave us finding the suit as a suitable present," Michiru replied.

"Or the look on Michiru's face when you snuck up behind us," Haruka added.

"Yes," Michiru said blandly. "Or that."

"I'm not exactly the easiest person in the world to shop for, and to be honest, I wouldn't feel right accepting something from you, Setsuna. Not after you've lost..." Haruka grunted as Michiru's elbow dug into her ribs.

"It's okay," Setsuna said. "I don't mind talking about it. And I can understand how you might feel uncomfortable, Haruka. But would you mind terribly if I went ahead and bought you something anyway?"

Haruka thought it over, remembered Setsuna's earlier claim of enjoying her 'normal' life, remembered how happy she sounded talking about it with Michiru just now. She sighed. "Alright. Just as long as you promise not to tell anybody else, okay?"

"Done and done. I have..."

Whatever Setsuna had remained a matter for another time, as a skylight overhead suddenly shattered, dropping a rain of glass shards and something very large and unhappy into the mall. Most people dove for cover, but Setsuna merely took a long step to the left and a slight step backwards. Michiru tried to figure out what the woman was up to while keeping her own eyes on the falling creature; both tasks ended abruptly when Haruka knocked her down and then crouched over her, shielding Michiru with her own body as the glass hit the tiled floor with a loud crash.

"My hero," Michiru said dryly, earning an answering grin as Haruka got up and helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Michiru frowned; 'fine' could have a lot of meanings with Haruka, but this time, she seemed to be telling the truth. They both looked at Setsuna, who had somehow managed to stand right in the middle of the falling glass without being touched, and was looking down at the shattered debris with an expression of absolute astonishment. "Neat trick," Haruka muttered. "Tell you what, you can teach me how you did it and consider _that_ a birthday present."

"I'm... I'm not sure what just happened," Setsuna admitted.

"Worry about it later," Michiru said. "Right now, we've..."

"Attention all shoppers," a loud, clear, and familiar voice called from above. In spite of themselves, the three Senshi standing on the floor looked up at the three who were just beginning to descend through the busted skylight. "We apologize for the inconvenience presented by this little interruption," Venus continued grandly, "and would ask at this time that, for your own safety, you all clear the area while we engage in a little urban pest removal."

There was a moment in which nothing moved. Then a horde of slightly panicked shoppers began to move in all directions, getting as much distance between themselves and what was coming as possible.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Venus called to the wall of fleeing backs as she, Jupiter, and Mercury took up positions around their rising enemy. Michiru and Haruka looked at each other, glanced at Setsuna with a look that said 'stay out of the way,' and ducked around the nearest corner.

"Mercury," Jupiter said, "is it still transmitting?"

"No. The electrical energy from your attack seems to have overloaded it like I hoped, only now it's..." Mercury jumped as the creature snapped its squashed head forward, lashing at her with its mane of razor-tipped tendrils. "...mad," she finished lamely.

"Then quit talking," Uranus said sharply as she and Neptune joined the ring, "and take it down!"

"Where did you two..." Jupiter started to say, turning her head to look at Uranus. Her eyes widened. "What's _Setsuna_ doing here?"

"We'll explain later," Neptune snapped. "Now, together, before it has a chance to move!"

Mercury opened her mouth, but her words were lost in the crackle of energies as the other four unleashed their attacks. Venus' Love Chain entangled it first, followed by the Deep Submerge, Supreme Thunder, and World Shaking hitting it all at once; the thing was blasted into the air on a pillar of electrified water, still tangled in the heart-shaped gold links. But even as it continued to ascend, small spikes appeared on the creature's chest and shoulders. The green substance around those spikes seemed to contract slightly, and they shot forward. The Senshi dodged easily, but at the same moment, the creature flexed its massive arms, and Venus' chain shattered. Then it did something unexpected, reaching out with its arms towards the rim of the broken skylight and catching itself, heedless of the sharp glass that would have mutilated a human's hands. Hanging there, the mold-man moved its large legs up, the rootlets that served as its toes lengthening and hardening into more spikes. Again the green matter contracted, and again a barrage of woody darts rained down.

Mercury found herself sharing cover with Neptune, who didn't look very happy with her. "Why didn't you..." The Water Senshi broke off as she got a good, close-up look at Mercury's still-pale features. "Are you sure you should be here, Mercury?"

"It was broadcasting some kind of radio signal earlier. I had Jupiter zap it, and that seems to have killed the signal, but if starts sending again, my computer's the only thing we have that'll pick it up. I'd rather not take the chance of whoever was on the receiving end being able to watch us in action, would you?" Neptune's mind worked every bit as quickly as Mercury's; any of the others would have needed a full explanation before they understood the danger, but Neptune just nodded.

"Fine. But stay down."

"Hey!" Venus shouted. "A little help, here?" The creature had moved itself to one side of the skylight and seemed to have fused one of its arms into the materials of the roof; it had essentially become a living turret, its legs moving to track the movements of the Senshi as it fired those piercing splinters. When Mercury and Neptune looked over the low wall they were hiding behind, the free arm aimed straight at them and fired its own barrage. They ducked back immediately, but one splinter slashed across Neptune's head and imbedded itself in the floor beyond, trailing a few strands of her hair.

Neptune touched one finger to a spot of blood in her hairline, where the very roots had been torn out. "That was a little too close, I think." She risked another quick look. "Right. It's got Jupiter and Uranus pinned down behind the counter of that deli, and I think I saw Venus dive around the corner across the hall. We need some way to bring it down, but as long as it's up there firing, nobody can stand up long enough to take a look, let alone shoot it."

"Up there," Mercury said, pointing at the sprinkler system. "If you bust open the sprinklers around that thing and we get Jupiter to send a bolt up into the pipes a minute later..."

"Better have Uranus and Venus ready to hit it when it's distracted," Neptune advised. "Water and electricity didn't seem to bother it very much." She looked up at the sprinklers as Mercury relayed the hasty plan to the others, focusing her will and her power on the water in the pipes that ran through the ceiling. *Flow,* she told it. *Break loose and flow!* She heard three, four, five popping noises in rapid succession, followed by a steady gush of water. There was a muffled shout from behind the deli counter, and a dazzling net of expanding energy flashed up towards the falling water; almost instantly, there followed a loud crackle and a mass of hisses and pops rather like frying bacon. Venus and Uranus jumped out of hiding and fired, Beam and Blaster streaking up at the shocked mold-man.

The others scrambled out of hiding in time to see their enemy falling, the end of its left arm blackened and trailing smoke. But its thick legs spread wide as the creature dropped, absorbing the shock when it touched down. Uranus was already charging, sword out, to engage the thing at close range before it could start shooting again. Neptune hastily focused on the pipes again, wrenching the flow to a halt and then willing the water all over the floor to gather itself up and push away. If Jupiter fired again while Uranus was out there, with all that water laying around... *Damn it, Haruka, you know better than that!*

The mold-man met Uranus' charge by reshaping its blackened arm into a thick shield, harmlessly absorbing the first swing. A moment later, the Space Sword skirled piercingly against a heavy, scythe-like blade of what might have been bone, erupting from the creature's functional right arm. The weapon was three times the size of Uranus' sword, and with the shield to block on one side, the mold-man was suddenly the one with the advantage. Uranus jumped, tucking her feet up underneath herself as the huge blade swung through the air below her. The shield-arm moved up, and she had to grab hold of the edges to keep herself from being hammered out of the air. And then it was another desperate jump as the sword-arm chopped down at her head; she was only half-landed, standing on one foot, when the shield-arm shot forward and struck her full in the chest. Uranus flew backwards and crashed sidelong through a store window, her sword skittering away over the tiles in the other direction. The mold-man took a step forwards, and then another.

"NO!" Neptune shouted. "Get away from her, you monster! This is her _birthday!_ Do you hear me? LEAVE HER ALONE!" Neptune raised her arms with a wordless scream of rage, unleashing her power without a second thought about how to control it.

The mold-man stopped its advanced towards Uranus as the water that had been flowing away suddenly returned. Not only that, but the pipes in the ceiling, floor, and surrounding walls exploded as the water within them heard and heeded the call of its mistress. A massive sphere of liquid formed around the creature, growing to five, ten, fifteen feet across in the space of heartbeats; inside the building ball, the mold-man spun crazily, the force of the incoming jets of water pushing it in a dozen conflicting directions at once. For a moment, its movements stabilized enough for it to look at Neptune. Then she brought her arms down.

With a sound like someone cannonballing into a swimming pool, only backwards, the huge orb imploded. There was a moment, just before water began to erupt from all sides, when the Senshi could clearly see the thing start to shrink, pushing in on itself and the creature it held as every point on the outer surface tried to go to its opposite. Then there was just water, flying every which way imaginable. The Senshi ducked out of the way of the blast, all except for Neptune, around whom the flying water seemed to part. When the others looked again, a soaked and shattered mass of manlike mold was all that remained in the middle of a vast, spreading puddle on the floor, its limbs twitching feebly.

"_Water_ did that?" Venus asked in astonishment.

"Water pressure," Mercury explained. "Unless I miss my guess, for a moment there—for just a moment—that thing was feeling the kind of force they build submarines to withstand." She frowned, aiming her computer at the thing. "Given the damage it just took, I can't understand how it's still holding together..."

"Are we too late?" ChibiMoon's voice asked as she and Saturn appeared. "We got here as fast as we could after that odango-atama thought to call us." Her face took on a disbelieving cast when her eyes fell on the battered creature. "Is _that_ it? Doesn't look like much."

"Neptune sort of put it through the wringer," Venus told them. "We were just debating what to do with the rest of it."

"I'll take care of it," Saturn said. She raised the Silence Glaive... and Mercury's hand closed around the haft.

"Don't! It's human! Look," she added, pointing at the thing. The Senshi looked, and blinked; the green substance, pulverized beyond its ability to recuperate from, was sloughing away in massive sections with the draining water, leaving behind a soaked, battered, and unconscious man.

"Is he still alive?" Venus asked quickly.

"He's not too badly hurt, physically," Mercury replied after a moment. "The green stuff took the worst of the damage, but I think we'd still better call an ambulance for him."

"I'll do that," Setsuna murmured, moving off in search of a phone.

"Should I..." Saturn began.

Mercury shook her head. "Better not. That green stuff is alive, too, and if there's any of it inside him, you might heal it, too." Saturn nodded and began looking around.

"Over there," Jupiter said, nodding towards the broken display window. Neptune was just visible beyond, kneeling beside something that was making faintly audible sounds of protest and trying to bat her hands away.

"I am perfectly capable of getting up on my own," Uranus said hotly as the other Senshi gathered around.

"Not until Mercury and Saturn have had a chance to make sure nothing's broken," Neptune replied with equal heat. "Now shut up and be still."

Uranus shut up and was still.

"Maybe I was hearing things," Venus began, looking at the two of them as Mercury started scanning for the extent of Uranus' injuries, "but Neptune, I could have _sworn_ I heard you say it was her birthday today."

Neptune and Uranus exchanged a long look, during which Neptune's face slowly turned a brilliant red. "Sorry," she murmured.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be."

***MILLENNIALS***

Proteus debated its next move.

All accessible information on Hiroshi had been purged long before the humans had begun looking for it, and the thoughts and memories that had belonged to him had been drained even before that, and were now floating about in Proteus' own awareness. This did not eliminate the possibility that someone might yet be able to identify the man, but that information would be of little use _unless_ more of Proteus' enslaved humans were tied to similar incidents as Hiroshi. That would, eventually, form a trail back to the call center where they all worked, the one element all of them had in common.

But without risking at least one more of its pawns, Proteus knew it would be trapped as it was forever, or until it was found out and destroyed. The possibility of discovery, when held against the certainty of eventual destruction, was a risk worth taking.

Adjusting its plans, Proteus selected another human, a woman named Nanako, and began its next experiment. It would move slower this time, conduct the transformation slowly, to improve its control of the final product. It would use what it had learned from Hiroshi and do better.

It had no choice.

***MILLENNIALS***

Haruka kept the smile on her face until the door closed. She'd been wearing the expression for most of the night, and her jaws ached from the effort. Michiru, she swore, was going to pay for that little slip-up at the mall.

Dinner had, despite her fears, been absolutely wonderful. Even with the starched shirt and tie, the suit was more comfortable than she'd expected. Michiru, with her hair done up in a style where a swathe of hair veiled one side of her face while the rest tumbled down her back—left bare by that clinging, hinting sea of gold-trimmed blue she called a dress—had been nothing short of breathtaking. Haruka had spent most of the evening either staring at Michiru or glaring at other people who were staring; she supposed that she must have eaten something at some point, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall what.

It was when they got home and found the rest of the Senshi waiting for them that everything fell apart. Michiru's one little mistake, a moment of verbal carelessness in a fit of rage, had sparked a mad shopping spree among the younger girls, a last-minute attempt to find 'the perfect gift.'

Looking at the gifts piled on the table, Haruka shuddered. Usagi and ChibiUsa had thrown in together for a pair of fuzzy slippers. Racing cars, thank God or Buddha or whoever else was responsible; Haruka thought she would have killed them on the spot if it had been bunny slippers. Minako's choice of fuzzy novelty dice had not been much better. Rei's gift had been a prayer for good luck and prosperity in the coming year, and a blessing ward hung on the front door to drive away evil spirits. And no, Rei had added, that didn't include Usagi. She had also found a book of wisdoms somewhere, a collection of the sort of pithy little sayings found in fortune cookies, newspaper horoscopes, and Minako's scrambled vocabulary. *Maybe she's trying to get me to convert or something,* Haruka thought absently, picking up the book and flipping through the pages. *Good luck.*

Ami's present had been the two-volume 'Encyclopedia Acceleratica,' a self- proclaimed 'guide to all things automobile.' Haruka had flipped through it as well, and it seemed to be an honest claim; she'd have to remember to thank Ami. Ryo had very politely skipped out on the whole business—Ami's boyfriend, it seemed, had the makings of a wise man in him—and Hotaru had settled for giving her another massive hug and kiss; anything more pricey would only have irritated her 'papa,' and Hotaru wasn't about to endanger her allowance. Makoto, who had sent Ami on with the others and then arrived about ten minutes after Haruka and Michiru returned home, brought a freshly-baked batch of banana muffins to substitute for a cake, and a pair of coffee mugs. The one had what looked to be an eagle painted on the side, while the other bore a dolphin. Very clever of her, really, to come up with something that would appeal to Michiru.

And last but not least, there was Setsuna's gift. Another book, entitled 'The Art of Modern Fencing,' a not-so-subtle suggestion that perhaps Haruka ought to polish her swordswomanship if she meant to go blade-to-blade with other monsters in the future. The muffins had followed, and Haruka gave up and enjoyed herself a little. It was hard to be grouchy when you were eating anything Makoto had whipped up.

But everyone was gone now, and the only trace of the muffins were a few speck-sized crumbs, so Haruka was free to feel as grouchy as she liked. Tugging at the high collar of her shirt again as she climbed the stairs—she'd unbuttoned the thing hours ago, and the tie was long gone—Haruka went ahead and was grouchy. A little. Being mad at people who were just showing that they cared about you was no easier than being grouchy while eating Makoto's cooking. But the slippers and dice helped.

Out of long habit, she looked in on Hotaru, who was already soundly asleep, before continuing on to the bedroom. Empty. *That's odd. Where'd Michiru get to?*

A sound made Haruka turn around. And then her eyebrows tried to climb into her hairline.

Michiru was wearing something... at least, Haruka _thought_ she was wearing something. Her skin didn't usually have a blue tint to it, but the thing was so sheer that it was practically nonexistent. Her hair was down, and she was smiling.

"Happy birthday, Haruka."

Haruka managed a squeak as Michiru closed the door behind her.

***SAILOR SAYS***

***BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP* **

_(The picture shows a Sailor Moon test pattern, with Moon herself standing in the center, holding up a sign that reads 'Technical Difficulties—Gomen nasai!' A grinning, winking Venus is giving her classic 'V' sign in the lower left corner; Mars drums her fingers irritably in the lower right while Mercury is consulting a user's manual above; Jupiter is leaning against the side of the screen, waiting, in the last corner, and Luna is asleep below Moon. The test pattern is replaced by a totally dark screen.) _

**Minako**: Are we on?

**Rei**: I'm not sure. Ami?

**Ami**: The sound's getting through, but we don't have any picture. Hang on a minute.

**Rei** _(muttering)_: Trust the odango-atama to wreck our only camera.

**Usagi**: Hey!

**Makoto**: Come on, let's just do the moral.

**Rei**: Yeah, whatever. Today's moral is...

**Minako**: Malls are sacred ground, and any who defile them will suffer terrible retribution?

**Usagi**: Mold and mildew are a menace to life as we know it, and must be eradicated?

_(The dark screen manages to sweatdrop.) _

**Rei**: I think today's moral has to do with how, no matter how carefully you plan and prepare, you have to remember that you're never completely in control of a given situation, and there's always the chance that something unexpected will come along to prove it. The people who are backing those 'Directors,' for example, thought things were 'being taken care of' until the events from the last episode proved otherwise; their reaction in this episode was brought on by overconfidence. Proteus got a taste of uncertainty as well, when its experiment blew up in its face.

**Makoto**: And there's Haruka, how she thought she was going to be able to slip her birthday past without us finding out. But what sort of a moral do you get out of all that?

**Rei**: Simple. Things don't always go like you plan, so don't assume they will. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. That way, if the worst happens, you'll be ready for it.

**Makoto**: Not bad. Ami-chan, how's that picture coming?

**Ami**: Not very good. I think...

**Minako**: Here, let me see!

**Ami** _(sounding nervous)_: Uh, no... Mina-chan, really, I can get it... don't touch that!

**Usagi**: Mina-chan, get away from there and let Ami-chan do her... hey, watch it with that!

**Ami** _(sounding desperate)_: Not that way, Usagi! Don't step on the...

***ZZZZZAP! ZZZZZZZZORT! CRACKLE! SSSHHHHHHHHHHHH—BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP* **

_(After a screen of snow, the test pattern reappears. Jupiter is restraining a shouting, kicking Mars, who is trying to get free and strangle Moon, who is sticking her tongue out with one eyelid pulled down; in the upper right, a cheerfully smiling Venus is about to take a hammer to a control console, while Mercury has turned away with her eyes covered. The sign has fallen on Luna, who doesn't look at all happy about it.)_

24/06/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Ah, done at last. And no matter what else happens, I can safely say we will see February (early) in the next episode.

Next time:  
-One or two things come together while others fall apart;  
-More on Atlantis;  
-Rei tries her luck with the Book.

* * *

**Reposter's Note:** Apologies for the long delay everyone. I've spent the past few weeks getting settled in at a new school and things have been kinda hectic, but I should be able to churn out at least a chapter or two a week, classwork permitting. I can't _promise_ there won't ever be a long delay like this again but I can be pretty darn sure of it.


	10. Chapter 10

Emergency crews had been called in after the fight. Police had cordoned off the area and kept the crowds away while firemen and damage assessment specialists had gone over the wreckage, tallying up the end result and searching for any casualties. Fortunately, it appeared as though almost everyone in the area had gotten out in time, as only one man was carried out and loaded up into an ambulance.

Statements were taken from a dozen or so store employees who had taken cover behind their counters and desks or in back rooms, from a security guard who had been flushed into a corner when half the pipes in the building exploded, and from a few customers who had also opted to hide rather than risk getting crushed in the mass exodus. One of those, a tall, striking young woman with uncanny red eyes, had been the one to call for the ambulance after the ruckus had died down; she and her two companions had claimed not to have actually seen much after the skylight shattered, and the two men who took their statements had not pressed the issue.

The man who arrived some time later and began questioning the two policemen was not so understanding; he went over every detail, every question they had asked of each eyewitness, with an attitude that suggested they had been lax in their duties or were just plain incompetent. The pair were so busy being offended that they failed to notice the interrogative fellow's interest in the red-eyed woman, who was by now long gone.

On the other side of the cordoned-off area, nobody thought anything of a very official-looking woman who appeared with an order to transport any and all surveillance footage from the mall's security cameras to a secure location for proper examination. And they barely noticed the trio in grey coveralls who were walking around and poking into things; there were dozens of people like that on the scene, trying to figure out what had happened, although the others didn't have little clones of the Geiger-counter humming and beeping in their hands.

The fact that these five individuals arrived and left in the same grey, unmarked minivan went completely unnoticed with all the other vehicles from various agencies and television stations clogging up the parking lot.

The five unremarkable men and two similarly uncommonly ordinary women hanging around in long coats didn't occasion much comment either, even though they arrived and left in another unmarked van which was the twin of the first. But then again, nobody saw the curious, lightly armored uniforms or decidedly high-tech looking weapons hidden under the coats. And they certainly didn't see the bank of computers in the back of the van. People can be so unobservant at times.

The last group of unusual investigators also went unnoticed, but by the time they showed up, it was well past midnight. Pretty much everyone else had departed except for the mall's night security shift, and it wasn't like _they_ were kicking around on the roof, waiting for four figures in grey cloaks and mirror-faced helmets to step out of a circle which just suddenly appeared in mid-air.

The lead guardsman looked around, then indicated with a short wave of his firelance for two of the others to take up defensive positions around the portal while he and the fourth made a sweep of the area. That took little time at all, and the pair returned to the gate, the leader's helmet shifting very slightly as he gave the all-clear.

Cestus emerged from the portal and headed straight for the gaping hole in the roof, flanked by the leader and the fourth guardsman. He knelt beside the shattered side of the skylight, dark eyes intent on the area below. What he saw appeared to satisfy him, as he nodded sharply and began to rise, pausing when he spotted a tattered length of something fluttering in the night breeze, caught on the sharp end of a snapped-off metal rod. Cestus extended one hand, and the ragged thing flew easily into his grasp. He examined it closely for a moment, then ordered the guards back into the gateway; they obeyed without question, following him back through the portal.

The guardsman who had emerged first paused for a moment, lagging behind the others to look around at the vast city, extending in every direction almost as far as the eye could see. His face was hidden by the one-way material of his visor, but the shake of his head was unmistakable, both amazed and disbelieving. Then he too was gone.

***MILLENNIALS***

Archon sat alone in his private chambers, thinking.

Cestus' examination of the battle site and discovery of the withered fragment of bioweave had confirmed that a unit had been involved in this latest incident, and that it had been terminated by the same unidentified force as the others. But all active units had been accounted for: the nexus sites were fully armed if not yet fully active, both first—and second-generation units functioning normally; the units stationed within Atlantis City were all where they were supposed to be; the watcher continued to perform its assigned tasks without flaw or failure. And no unauthorized units had been produced; the energy reserves remained as they should.

So where had the thing come from? What had created such an unusual mutation? Why had it been turned loose without a complete program? And how had the watcher missed it?

Archon had kept that little piece of information to himself. His knowledge of the rogue unit had come, not from the watcher, but from his apprentice, who had summoned him in an utter fury, believing he or someone else in Atlantis was meddling with her plans for revenge. She had not said how she knew, but in its blind rush from nowhere to its death site, the rogue had apparently come close to harming her enemy.

At another time, Archon would have chuckled over the irony; until such time as she was ready to strike in person, his apprentice would do everything in her power to make sure her victim remained in perfect health and safety, essentially becoming the best friend of the one she hated most. But news of a rogue had made such thoughts extraneous.

The watcher should have detected and reported the energy required to create even a lowly first-generation unit, or this curious variant. And yet it had not. That suggested that either the watcher itself was malfunctioning—not an unheard of thing; even Atlantean technomagical devices broke down from time to time—or that the creation of the rogue had been masked from the watcher's senses. Either way, it was clear to Archon that the watcher was no longer completely reliable. Until such time as the malfunction could be determined and corrected, or the masking technique penetrated, he thought it might be wise to... what was the saying his apprentice had used? Ah, yes. 'To take everything with a grain of salt.' Accept what is given, but do not accept that it is _all_ there is to be given.

Thinking about that, Archon remembered what else his student had said, something else he had chosen to hold back from Janus and the Lords for the moment: Senshi, the girl claimed, had been seen fighting the rogue.

After long minutes of consideration, Archon called forth a row of memory crystals from the unwalled void around him, selecting one before sending the others back into infinity. He activated the crystal floating between his hands and waited as an image began to take shape before him, the image of a very old man, his skin-and-bones body swallowed up by the gold-trimmed blue robes somewhat similar to the ones Archon wore. The top of the wizard's head was quite bald; his beard and what little hair remained on the rim of his scalp were thin, utterly white, and reached practically to his knees. His eyes were bright blue, far more alert and intelligent than might be expected for someone of such an advanced age, and his voice was surprisingly strong.

"Right, then," the old wizard said in a businesslike manner. "For the record, I am Vaurin Greymantle, Lord of the House of Istar, Magus Maximus of the Academy of Research under the Imperial Order of Mages, et cetera, et cetera, and this experiment is the ninth attempt..."

"Eighth," a female voice corrected.

"Eh? Oh, right. The _eighth_ attempt in a series of experiments aimed at greater understanding of the mystical energies generated by the stellar, planetary, and sub-planetary bodies. In particular, I..."

Somewhere, a throat cleared.

"...that is, 'we' hope to discover the means by which certain individuals are able to directly harness said energies, and to perhaps discover a means by which to eliminate the diminishing effect of distance upon their use. Such a development would greatly increase the range of application for planetary energy and could prove to have uses in such fields as..."

Somewhere, a throat cleared again.

"Right, right. It's in the memo. As the basis for our research, we are naturally employing the assistance of the Greater Senshi as primary subjects, keeping open the possibility of a follow-up study of the powers of the Lesser Senshi. Since they will naturally be the most likely to benefit from any positive results of these studies, they all have been most cooperative." The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. "I would like at this time to again express my disappointment with the decision of the Council of Lords to prohibit the participation of Lady Pluto in these experiments. As the only Senshi other than Saturn—who is of course not a safe subject for experimentation—whose powers are unaffected by her distance from her source, she would be of incalculable assistance in this endeavor. But we shall, as always, abide by the wisdom of Council." Greymantle added something under his breath which the magic of the crystal had failed to catch, but which likely wasn't too flattering of the 'wisdom of the Council.' Then he began.

"To reiterate: the reason for the gradual reduction of power a Senshi experiences as her distance from her source increases is due to the innate mundane and mystical radiation of that source. In some manner we still do not fully understand, a Senshi's body is able to absorb this radiation and store its energy for later use. Time does not appear to have any appreciable decaying effect on stored energy, regardless of distance, as demonstrated in an earlier test; Lady Neptune had been away from her world for three full weeks, making no use of her powers, and was an even match for Lady Mars, freshly arrived from _her_ world. The difficulty lies in regaining spent energy, because as a Senshi moves further away from her source, its radiation becomes more and more diffused into space. 'Recharging' is thus made slower and less efficient, hampering the effectiveness of a Senshi's power, as Lady Neptune's subsequent defeat by Lady Mars one week later proved. The position of other stellar bodies also appears to have an impact on the speed of recovery; a previous experiment showed Lady Jupiter able to regain spent energy more quickly than Lady Mercury, whose planet, though much nearer, was also on the far side of the Sun at the time, whereas space between Earth and Jupiter was relatively clear."

Greymantle continued to discuss variables and the like, but Archon had stopped listening and presently switched the memory crystal off; viewing the recording had confirmed his memory of the experiments the old wizard described, and of the final results.

Although a little erratic at times, Greymantle had been one of the best, practicing the art for close to a thousand years, a wizard with considerable power and the stylish flair and genius to back it up. His ultimate conclusion had been that because the power of Saturn naturally touched on all points in space and time, distance meant very little to it; the same held true with Pluto, thanks to the lingering effects of the Mobius Gate Project. A Senshi of either planet was therefore able to reach across the barriers and ignore the limitations suffered by her sisters, almost as if she were carrying her world around in one pocket wherever she went. Other Senshi had to gather energy as best they could, rather like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Which of course, is best done with a magnet.

And since he had never been granted Pluto's assistance, Greymantle had finally gone with the 'magnet' idea; a device with the capability of drawing in the unique radiation of a given source, bringing them into contact with their respective Senshi and thereby tremendously accelerating her recovery of energy. Simple enough in theory, but apparently impossible to pull off in reality; Greymantle had spent nearly twenty years working at it before he died, supposedly as a result of that ongoing experiment. It had been said that his final attempt to create the 'magnet' had instead turned into a short-lived pocket of antimatter, breach into nullspace, or some other equally destructive energy/substance/phenomenon. No one had tried again.

*Almost no one,* Archon corrected himself. Rumors had circulated for years that Greymantle's star student and research assistant—that was her voice speaking to the old man in the recording—had continued this and other of her master's most complex and seemingly impossible projects. But if Greymantle had been erratic, his apprentice was well and truly crazed. She was brilliant, no question, maybe as much of a genius as her master, but she took risks even he wouldn't have countenanced, fostered theories that were simply beyond belief, and was something of a political insurrectionist besides.

More than 'something;' in the end, she had been on the other side in the war which had sunk Atlantis and reshaped the world, if not the entire galaxy. Archon supposed the woman might have found a solution to the Senshi problem, assuming she'd survived the war and the inevitable chaos of the years that followed it; the bizarre energy the watcher kept reporting could very well be coming from one or more applications of that solution. But he wanted proof.

Archon shook his head. The Lords respected him, but if he went to them with this right now, they'd think he'd gone as crazy as Serenity.

But suppose—just suppose—she'd actually done it? What if his apprentice was correct, and there _were_ Senshi active on Earth today, Senshi who, thanks to the work of a long-dead genius and a long-dead, traitorous madwoman, could access most or even all of their power?

*Their powers were no greater than those of any competent wizard, and nothing at all beside the might of a true archmage.* Or so he'd told his apprentice only a few days ago. And in his day, on Earth, with their energies weakened by distance, that had certainly been true. But when not on Earth, when _not_ weakened by distance...

Wizards could take many roads to power, as many roads as there were schools of magic. Some focused on a single branch of the mystical arts, learning its secrets at the expense of others, gaining quickly in their power and the understanding of their chosen field. Others expanded their attentions to multiple schools, advancing much more slowly and not obtaining such a depth of expertise in any single field, but earning a versatility and overall grasp of magic their more specialized counterparts could not match. Those of this second type, those who possessed the mental strength and the magical power to attain control of all forms of magic, could become truly awesome forces—if they lived long enough. Archon was one such; given time, his apprentice might also rise to such power.

Senshi were different. Where a wizard studied the elements in order to master them, a Senshi _was_ her element. Even a novice Senshi just learning her powers possessed a greater affinity for and command over her element than most wizards could ever achieve. A fully trained and experienced Senshi, one at the height of her powers, could not be bested for control of her element. Matched, perhaps, depending on the strength of the individual and her opponent, but never OUT-matched. And woe to the spellcaster whose control was anything less than perfect when confronting such a Senshi with her own element.

How many of them were there, and which ones were they? The scrap of bioweave had been electrified, suggesting a Senshi of Jupiter, and Cestus had reported extensive water damage to the battle area, which would most likely be the work of a Senshi of Neptune. Two at least, perhaps three if a Senshi of Mercury had been involved, the residue of her powers masked by those of Neptune. And the mana nexus had been destroyed by three individuals working with water, ice, and wind... Uranus, as well?

Four. And if there were four of them in the same place, working together, it would be very unlikely for Venus and Mars _not_ to be there as well. Not when the Court was involved, not when _they_ had chosen to send Pluto to this city, at this time.

For all his power and knowledge, Archon's understanding of the Court was limited. The most basic thing to be remembered when dealing with them was that almost nothing the Court did was ever as simple as it appeared. A truth at the core of a lie, a stain of darkness on the purest light, method within madness, a universe unfolding into mirrors; that was their way, by nature and by necessity. And when they reached a decision as a whole, they never took sides. Or rather, they took all sides, equally.

Pluto's banishment to this city, bereft of her powers and her memories, seemingly alone against the gathered might of a reborn Atlantis, had seemed far too much of an advantage for Archon to accept. But if the other Senshi were _also_ present, also active... yes, that would be more like the Court. Chaos, for certain, would have loved such an arrangement, for it would throw an otherwise inevitable outcome into doubt. Balance would have insisted on it.

Archon felt a brief flicker of worry. The arrangement was exactly what the Court would have chosen, but it placed an amnesiac Pluto with no way to know what she was doing in close proximity to Uranus and Neptune. If they started mucking around with the Talismans and unleashed the Grail, they might just wake up Saturn... no, the Court would never allow that. Order might see the attraction of the rigid, unchanging Silence, but none of the others would agree to it, not even Death—for in a world totally without life, how can there ever be new death?

All six of the remaining Greater Senshi, then. Had they merely stumbled into their powers and been forced to learn alone, or had someone found and trained them properly? Archon would rather face six powerful but relatively unschooled Greater Senshi than six with the moderate strength and peerless skill he remembered. And even six like that would be preferable to six who possessed their full power—or whatever level of stable strength Serenity's work might have provided—and the skill to know what to do with it. Archon knew he might not have a choice in the matter.

He still needed evidence to truly convince Janus and the Lords, evidence to prove—or disprove; Archon had stopped believing in gods long ago, but he offered up a fervent prayer now that he might still find his suspicions to be wrong!—that the Senshi had returned as well. And he needed time to find that evidence. But if his apprentice was right, if the worst-case scenario was true and their unseen foe was indeed six powerful and skilled Senshi with custody of Pluto—however crippled she might be without her memories—then waiting could prove to be a deadly error.

How long could he keep silent? How many days—how many hours—could he afford to hold back what he knew, before it became too late to change anything?

***MILLENNIALS***

"Seven?"

"Correct." Usagi grinned in triumph, a grin which faded away when Haruna moved on to part two of the question. They had been doing trigonometry for about a week now—and this particular question for what felt like hours, though in fact only about two minutes had gone by—and it was only with help from Ami and Luna that Usagi was understanding even a tenth of it. Just what the heck _was_ a cosine, _really?_

*At least we're out of those awful polynomials for a while,* Usagi thought, shuddering internally at a dream-image of an army of 'x equals this' and 'y equals that' joining ranks against her. She didn't even want to think about some of the things Ami had mentioned, just a few pages along in the book.

Realizing Haruna had just asked her for the other part of the answer, Usagi glanced quickly at her notes and said hesitantly, "Thirty-eight degrees?"

"Right again. Very good, Usagi."

Usagi sat back in her chair and glanced enviously at Ami and Ryo, both of whom were busily working through problems. Ryo was about five pages ahead of most of the rest of the class, Ami perhaps twice as far along as that—and complaining that she was still working to catch up for the time lost from her two day-sickness a week ago!—and yet either of them would be able to look up from their work and answer a question correctly when Haruna called on them. She didn't, usually; they both knew what they were doing, and Ami actually pointed out mistakes Haruna had made from time to time. Haruna also didn't ask Minako any questions in class, but that was just to spare herself a lot of aggravation; math wasn't Minako's forte. It wasn't exactly Usagi's best subject, either, but it _really_ wasn't Minako's.

Math and Minako and whatnot were forgotten as Usagi's attention went off on another tangent, fixing upon a slightly more important level of problem. Things had been quiet since the battle at the mall, but none of the Senshi were relaxing in the slightest; where their enemies were concerned, long silences always ended in bad news. The last break had thrown the mana nexus at them; what would follow this one?

The man who had been taken over by that weird green stuff was still in the hospital. Nothing about him was being said on the news, but ChibiUsa had stolen the disguise pen, turned herself into a nurse, and slipped into the building to check up on the poor fellow. Most of the older Senshi had been upset with her sudden independent action—Hotaru had seemed more disappointed that she hadn't been invited along than anything else—but they'd sat down and listened to what she had to say.

It turned out that the man had no identification on him, and all attempts to ID him had failed. More importantly, while his body had recovered, he had yet to regain consciousness; ChibiUsa had handed over a computer disk for Ami to puzzle over, then turned a sneaky smile on Setsuna and said that the disk had been 'borrowed' from Doctor Yotogi, who she _really_ ought to call. Setsuna had startled them all by seeming to give some serious thought to the matter.

From what the disk said, 'John Doe' apparently had a very low level of electrical activity in his brain, just enough in the right places to keep his body functioning. For all intents and purposes, the poor man was a vegetable, but there was no physical damage to account for his condition, despite the beating the creature he had been had taken from Neptune.

Michiru and Haruka had both reacted to that news with a touch of relief that Usagi, for one, had been glad to see. Not all that long ago, the two older girls would have been indifferent, at best—a monster was a monster, casualties of war, and all that—but associating with the Inner Senshi was clearly doing them some good. Michiru had noticed Usagi noticing and smiled faintly, rolling her eyes and sighing; Haruka turned red, embarrassed by her own admission of relief, before muttering something under her breath about 'getting soft' and then grunting slightly when Michiru planted an elbow in her ribs. She did that quite often, reacting to Haruka's more annoying remarks and actions almost without realizing it. Usagi thought it might be a useful thing to know when Mamoru finally came home, and started paying closer attention to see if she could figure out how to duplicate that instinctive-appearing response.

She was watching Setsuna a lot these days, too, but she seemed to be having no trouble adjusting to her new job. Usagi wasn't sure if that was normal or not for people suffering from amnesia, but then again, as far as Setsuna was concerned, 'normal' didn't really enter into things. Not usually, anyway; now it was almost as if she were trying to bury herself in normality. Kenji had, at Ikuko's insistence, dropped Setsuna off at the mall each morning for the first few days, and Hanna or Annah—again at Ikuko's request—had driven her home. Now, at her own insistence, Setsuna took the bus, walking for a few minutes with Usagi in the morning to reach the bus-stop, arriving home a little after three. And she usually spent a few hours each night working on something from the store, humming—actually humming!—an odd little tune as she cut this, stitched that, or sketched designs.

Usagi didn't recognize that tune, and the first time she'd asked about it, Setsuna had been startled to realize that she _was_ humming. The name of the tune, she didn't know, nor did she recall where she'd heard it, or even if it had any words. Once or twice, Usagi had overheard Setsuna singing faint snatches of it under her breath, not really words but musical nonetheless; Setsuna's singing voice might not have been as good as Rei's, but there was a sweet, haunting quality to the tune. Luna didn't recognize it, but said it sounded a little like old songs from the Moon Kingdom, though not entirely; after a while, Usagi got used to the song and quit wondering about it.

Rei was still stymied in her attempts to open the Book; in point of fact, she was getting a little snappish whenever Usagi tried to bring it up. She had also been talking to Minako and Artemis about something on more than one occasion, something none of them would even admit to discussing if Usagi tried to confront them about it. Usagi's first guess was that Rei might be asking the self-proclaimed 'Ai no Megami' on what to do about Yuuichirou, except that pigs would fly before Rei admitted she had any feelings for the guy, and she knew better than to talk to Minako about sensitive things like that anyway. Since both of them ignored her and she couldn't figure it out herself, Usagi turned to pestering Artemis. The white cat was a lousy liar; where the two girls flat-out ignored Usagi's questions, Artemis dodged them. Not particularly well, but Usagi still didn't know what was up. She resolved to sick Luna on Artemis for some answers at the earliest opportunity.

Aside from a faint pallor, Ami appeared to have fully recovered from her brief illness, although she was more bubbly these days than Usagi could remember seeing her, always smiling faintly and every so often breaking into a silly grin or a bout of giggles. Ryo probably had something to do with that—by now there wasn't a kid in school who hadn't clued in to the fact that he and Ami were, in their own quietly reserved way, 'an item'—although to the best of Usagi's knowledge, the two didn't even hold hands in public. And that included Makoto's apartment.

And speaking of Makoto, she had been drifting along in some sort of haze for the last few days. Not her usual kind of starry-eyed, fixated on the 'perfect' guy haze, either—thinking about it, Usagi realized that Makoto hadn't spaced out over a guy since before Christmas, now a month and more gone—but a quiet calm that rivaled even Rei's meditative trances. And she was always smiling when she looked at Ami and Ryo. Granted, most of the Senshi smiled more often when one of their number was happy, but Makoto seemed to be taking a much deeper satisfaction than that from the whole thing; even when she started arguing with Ami—which happened at least once every other day—Makoto had a look of absolute contentment in her eyes. What was up with that? The two of them had taken to shouting at each other nearly as loudly as Usagi did with Rei—or with Shingo, or ChibiUsa—and yet there were times when Usagi was sure they were both enjoying...

Usagi hit herself mentally and called herself nine different kinds of baka for not guessing sooner. They were arguing almost like sisters. Neither girl had ever had a sibling, nor had either of them ever lived with someone close to their own age, and now that they were living together, they were—just like family—trying to change things about each other that they had previously never even thought about, but which they now found 'annoying' or 'inconvenient' or 'foolish' thanks to the enforced close quarters and round-the-clock association. Domestic bliss wasn't exactly an accurate description for it, and Usagi wouldn't be surprised if Ami and Makoto tried to strangle each other before it was over, but she thought they were both enjoying the cohabitation more than they let on.

But it was more than that, Usagi realized with a bit of a shock. Makoto had lived alone for a long time; with her parents gone, the only other family she had ever mentioned was an uncle, a man who saw to it that she had enough money to support herself and otherwise left her alone. Makoto never complained about being on her own, and in fact often claimed to enjoy the sense of independence, but Usagi had to wonder.

Even if nobody had ever met him, Makoto's fixation on her old senpai was legendary, and yet since Ami had moved in with her, Makoto seemed to have completely forgotten the guy. She still commented on the particularly handsome or well-defined guys that passed through her field of view, but with a casually appreciative air that was nowhere near her usual level of wide-eyed interest, and she gave no indication at all that they reminded her of 'him.'

Had Makoto been drawn to one short-lived crush and brief relationship after another because she was still hooked on a guy she had never even dated? Or was the _idea_ of that crush just the excuse she used to hide from everyone, including herself, the fact that living alone for so long was... well, lonely? Was she trying to find romance, or reassurance? Someone to change her life, or merely someone to share it?

Given Makoto's recent behavior, Usagi thought she might be on to something here. But if that was the case, what would happen when Ami finally moved out? How would Makoto take living alone again after months of having _not_ been alone? What would she do? What would the rest of them _have_ to do because of it?

"Usagi!"

"Aaah!" She came out of her reverie with a jolt to find Minako standing in front of her. "What?"

"Class is over, silly." Minako glanced at her curiously. "Thinking deep thoughts, were we? Care to share?"

Usagi looked hastily around as they left the room. Ami, Ryo, and Makoto were all gone, on their way to other classes; seeing that no one nearby was paying any real to attention to either of them, Usagi briefly explained her thoughts. Minako listened attentively, an unusually intent expression on her face.

When Usagi finished, Minako nodded. "I've been wondering about that, too. Good to know I'm not the only one who pays attention."

"You knew?" Minako just gave her a suffering look. "Right, sorry, lost my head." Minako would fail to notice changes in somebody's romantic behavior the same day Rei admitted she liked Yuuichirou as more than 'just a friend;' it would be an even rarer day when Minako saw and didn't try to meddle. "So what do we do, O Mighty Goddess of Love?"

Minako drew herself up grandly, opened her mouth to proclaim some divinely convoluted wisdom... and then stopped as another girl rushed up. The girl, whom Usagi knew simply as Lala-chan, nodded politely to her and then turned to Minako.

"Mina-chan, I need to talk to you about something." Lala glanced apologetically at Usagi. "It's sort of personal."

"No problem," Minako said. "Just give me two minutes, Usagi-chan. Thanks." And she dragged Lala off a short distance and proceeded to listen to a hasty, mostly one-sided discussion. Usagi couldn't hear what Lala was saying, but she seemed very passionate about it; most of Minako's replies were the words, "He didn't," with subtle variations on the tone and inflection to indicate differing degrees of shock, outrage, or amusement. Finally, Lala stopped talking, and Minako began speaking quickly. Usagi didn't hear any of that, either, but Lala listened intently, nodding at several points, before smiling, hugging Minako, and running off the way she'd come.

"What are you doing?" Usagi asked flatly.

"Just answering the call of my divine office; Lala-chan's been having some problems with Daichi-kun. Now, about Ma-"

"Mina-chan?" They both turned to see another girl—Usagi didn't recognize her—with the same slightly apprehensive look Lala had worn.

Minako sighed. "Just a second, Usagi-chan. I'll be right back." It took longer than a second, of course, and was a virtual carbon-copy of the talk with Lala. Minako was shaking her head when she came back. "A Love Goddess' work is never done."

"All right," Usagi demanded, "_what's_ going on?"

Minako looked at her as if she were crazy. "They're asking me for advice."

"Why? You don't exactly have what I'd call the credentials for this job, Mina-chan. You've never had a steady boyfriend longer than ten seconds"—Minako gave her a hurt look—"and every time you've tried to fix Rei, Mako-chan, or Ami-chan up with somebody, it's turned into an absolute disaster."

"I've thought about that a few times myself," Minako admitted. "I'm usually dead on about these things, but the way..."

"'Usually'? You mean you've done this before?" Minako nodded. "For other people besides us?" Nod. "_Successfully?_" Minako nodded again, and Usagi took a deep breath. "Start at the beginning."

"It started about... oh, maybe six or seven months after I met Artemis. I could look at two people together, and I'd just know they were right for each other. Sort of a magnetic thing, you know?"

"What does _love_ have to do with _magnets?_"

"Metaphor, Usagi, metaphor. Attraction, magnetic; you see?" Usagi nodded dumbly, frightened to realize that it did make sense, and Minako went on. "I can usually get a good bead on how people feel about each other when they're together—whether it's friendship or physical attraction, something a little more than that, or actual love—and I'm pretty good at telling if two people who've never met are a good match or not. Heck, I even managed to fix Kasuri-chan and Tara-chan up"—Usagi blinked—"but whenever I try to help out one of the rest of you—pfft! I think it has something to do with our alignments." She stressed that last word. "They must get in the way somehow."

"Yeah, probably," Usagi agreed dazedly.

"You don't believe me?"

"No... I mean, yes... I mean, I believe you, it's just... well..." Usagi looked around and lowered her voice. "After hearing Luna go on about how elemental alignments were what allowed Ami-chan, Haruka, and Michiru to notice that mana nexus, I figured you'd—I don't know—end up as a walking metal detector, or something."

"Oh, I can do that, too." Minako grinned. "It comes in handy in chemistry class sometimes, but it's not _nearly_ as much fun as this. I used to just amuse myself pairing people off, and maybe slip some advice in every now and then if I saw someone having problems; a few people thought I was being nosy, of course, but some others listened, and when things started working out for them again, word got around. Hardly a day goes by anymore when someone _doesn't_ ask me for help. Not that I mind, of course."

Usagi's eyes narrowed with a close approximation of cunning. "Does this have anything to do with whatever you've been talking to Rei about for the last week?"

"Hmm? Rei-chan? You know as well as I do that I'm the last person she'd talk to if she were having relationship troubles, Usagi-chan. Now," she said seriously, "getting back to Mako-chan. You're probably right about everything— three years is a long time to stay hung up on a guy she hasn't seen in all that time, especially since she's admitted herself that he barely knew she existed— but I'm not sure there's much we can do. Mako-chan has to admit to herself what it is she really wants, first, and us barging in and trying to rearrange her life is only going to upset her."

"Not to mention the fact that she threatened to—how did she put it?—'kick your Love-God-Ass' the next time you tried to hook her up with someone," Usagi added.

"That too. But more than that..." Minako looked at her feet for a moment. "Makoto's happy right now, Usagi, happier than I've ever seen her for more than a few days at a time. I don't want to take that away from her; do you?" Usagi shook her head. "I didn't think so. So we'll let her be for now, but remember to keep our eyes open later. And hope she and Ami-chan don't kill each other in the meantime," Minako finished wryly.

"One more thing to worry about on top of everything else," Usagi groused. "And for my next trick, I will juggle a half-dozen chainsaws, blindfolded and with one hand tied behind my back..."

"Speaking of your back," Minako said abruptly, "how is it? Not wearing out yet from the extra weight?"

"No, I'm fine. Another benefit of Luna's training, I suppose, although I don't think this"—Usagi patted her belly—"was quite what she expected to be training me for."

"Not much of a threat to the human race," Minako agreed. "Of course, fourteen years down the drain, who knows what she may be capable of?"

***MILLENNIALS*  
**

ChibiUsa sat quietly in class and tried not to look bored out of her skull as Yarano-sensei droned on about cross-multiplying fractions. Looking bored, she knew, would only bring on a question, and if she didn't stop to think before she answered a question, her answer might clue her teachers in to the fact that she knew quite a bit more than she ought to.

Her formal education up to this point had been a series of private tutors—most of them Senshi—and half of the subject matter from those classes hadn't happened yet. Or it had yet to be discovered. Or it had been discovered, but it just wasn't accepted yet.

Math, for instance. Mercury handled most of her education in the sciences with help from a few specialists in various fields—genius aside, Mercury was trained as a doctor, not a mana physicist or quantum theorist—and the last homework assignment she'd given ChibiUsa had included math problems only the modern Ami or Michiru were likely to look at. ChibiUsa entertained daydreams of presenting some of _those_ problems to Yarano-sensei and watching the woman's jaw hit the floor, but such dreams never came to pass. It was just too dangerous.

ChibiUsa's first trip through time had been on a frantic quest for figures out of her mother's bedtime stories, to find the long-ago Senshi who had defeated the Dark Kingdom, who were led by Sailor Moon, who seemed to be able to do anything and possessed the ginzuishou ChibiUsa thought she'd lost or destroyed. She'd had no idea at the time that those Senshi were the same ones she saw every day, or that Sailor Moon was really her mother; her only thoughts had been to find someone who could save her mother from 'the bad people.'

But after all had been said and done, ChibiUsa had started to worry. Her mother's tales of Sailor Moon were all about battles against the Dark Kingdom or the two wandering aliens, Ail and Ann, and of the battles out of which Crystal Tokyo was born. The Queen had never mentioned the Dark Moon, and ChibiUsa wondered; was that because her mother had purposely kept quiet—or because she hadn't known? Had her going back in time changed not merely the future, but the past, and all of the history in between? Was she living in a world she'd stolen from some other ChibiUsa? Was she supposed to be... dead?

She had eventually gotten over the nervous suspicion, but then, during her second trip, when Senshi she had never heard of began to appear, ChibiUsa had become very, very afraid. She had not been able to corner Pluto and get a direct answer until much, much later; she hadn't wanted to ask the question, let alone risk hearing the answer. But after a horrible dream one night, back in her own bed, in her own time, a dream in which her father and all her friends seemed to die fighting other Senshi, and in which she herself vanished, ChibiUsa went looking for Pluto.

She asked first about the nightmare, about what it meant. Pluto told her it had been a brief flash, a reaction at a moment in time parallel to the instant Mamoru had been killed by Galaxia, an act which rippled through to the future and would have erased ChibiUsa from existence if Sailor Moon had not defeated Galaxia and set things right. Because she was sensitive to the event and the target of its ultimate effect, ChibiUsa had seen something of it in a dream—just as Usagi and the others had briefly seen _her_ in the past, pleading for help.

Galaxia. Evil Senshi. More stories she had never heard of before. ChibiUsa had taken a deep, frightened breath and asked her other question: Were the Dark Moon Family supposed to win?

Pluto said yes.

In the original timeline, the Senshi fought and defeated Beryl and healed the aliens, but the months in which ChibiUsa now knew they fought the Dark Moon had instead been relatively quiet, up until the coming of the Deathbusters. That battle had gone very differently, for it had been ChibiUsa's heart crystal that awakened Saturn—and it had been Hotaru's anger at what had been done to her friend that gave her the strength to defeat Mistress Nine from within. But without ChibiUsa, the Deathbusters had not found a heart crystal sufficient to their needs; instead, when the Senshi finally raided Professor Tomoe's lab, they found a little girl who seemed to be dead. And when Sailor Moon tried to heal her, her Grail-enhanced powers had awakened Saturn, under the full control of Mistress Nine. Even then, Hotaru might have been able to stop it, because she would never have allowed her father to die. But Tomoe Souichi was already dead, killed in the attack by Uranus and Neptune. Hotaru screamed at them in her mind—and Saturn killed them in reality, drawing on the power of the Grail within her. The rest of its power was still going into Sailor Moon, and the buildup between positive and negative forces caused a tremendous explosion.

Mistress Nine, Hotaru, and the city of Tokyo ceased to exist. The ginzuishou reacted by trying to save Usagi and everyone she loved from the catastrophe, but it exhausted itself in doing so, and took centuries to recharge. Without the power of the crystal to sustain life, only the Senshi, their two feline advisors, and Mamoru had the strength to survive the long sleep. Waking hundreds of years later and piecing together what had happened, they grieved for their lost friends and families, and set about trying to make things better. They never spoke of what had happened to Tokyo; it hurt too much, and the Earth they had awakened in had enough hurt to go around.

Galaxia had come to Earth long ago and crushed it, leaving behind only a few remnants of civilization on a world poisoned by the corrupted force of the Grail and the wild energy of Saturn. Galaxia was long dead by the time the Senshi awoke, slain by the inexorable power of the Chaos-essence she had trapped within herself, and her great empire of worlds had collapsed, leaving Earth a primitive, savage world. Faced with that, the Senshi had no choice but to fight, and in fighting, they made enemies. Ultimately, Usagi—now Serenity—was able to pull together enough of the warring factions to begin building Crystal Tokyo, but, embittered by the long fighting, those who were to become the forebears of the Dark Moon Family refused to follow her. Serenity would not kill them, and she could not permit them to remain on Earth to attack her people, so instead she exiled them into space. Long years later, their descendants returned. And Crystal Tokyo fell.

Pluto explained that, had events gone along that course, ChibiUsa would not have been permitted to enter the Time Gate. Denied access to the past, Mercury would have seized on the idea of using the in-between place of the Time Gate as a staging area for the present, to slip away from the invasion and strike at the enemy from behind. Pluto would not have stopped the Senshi then, since they were not trying to use the Gate, and their sneak attack would have succeeded in destroying the Wise Man, far weaker in the future than in a past where he had the corrupted power of the ginzuishou within ChibiUsa to call upon—but still strong enough to kill the four Senshi even as he himself was destroyed. Without the Wise Man's corrupting influence, the more noble natures of certain members of the Dark Moon Family would have reasserted themselves. ChibiUsa herself would have eventually ended up married to Diamond, a marriage symbolic of the reunion between the light and dark sides of humanity, and the realm to follow would have been everything Crystal Tokyo had been and more—to everyone except her, with her parents and friends dead.

ChibiUsa had shivered hearing that. Not as bad in some ways as what she'd feared, but worse in others. Then she asked Pluto, if that was the way things were supposed to have gone, why had it been changed?

"You're the guardian of Time, Pu," she had said. "Why did you let it all change?"

Pluto had not answered her at first, instead looking off into the mists and speaking softly to herself. "I am charged with the protection of Time, the security of this device which has the power to alter and even undo the effects one of the fundamental forces of the universe. I can see the past, the passing present, and the unfixed future, and when you came here, I saw yours." Pluto had smiled sadly. "I am forbidden to interfere, but I gave up everything I loved for everything I believed in once, a long time ago, and you... you weren't even being given the choice. I wanted you to be happy, little one. The world you are in now _is_ your world, just rewritten a little better than before. The history I have told you is now just a fairy tale, and nothing more; the one Mars tells you is how it really happened. I expect I'll have to answer for that, someday," Pluto had added, with an almost fierce glance at the mists, "but I'd do it again."

And now it appeared as though Pluto's prediction had been correct, as if someone or something had indeed come to pass judgment on her. She was here, and ChibiUsa was here, and there was no one at the Time Gate to monitor their actions, to prevent or correct their mistakes. If they did something wrong and Crystal Tokyo ceased to exist, there was no way for them to know until it was too late. Except...

Glancing around, ChibiUsa pulled the thin chain hanging about her neck, drawing forth a tiny key, a near-replica of Pluto's staff, differing only in its size and in the single large crystal at its head. She thought about the key, about what it could do, about what she might be able to use it for.

She thought very, very hard.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ami and Ryo looked up at the knock on the front door. Several books lay on the table before them, open to pages of equations and hard text.

"Expecting somebody?"

"No," Ami admitted, setting her notes aside and rising from couch. She opened the door and blinked in surprise. "ChibiUsa?"

"Hi, Ami-chan. I need..." ChibiUsa's eyes widened slightly when she spotted Ryo walking up behind Ami. "Oh. Uh, hi, Ryo-kun. Um... I can come back, if this is a bad time."

Ami blushed a little. "No, it's fine. Come in, come in. We were just going over some science problems. Did you want something to drink?"

"No," ChibiUsa declined, settling herself on the living room chair. "I'm not thirsty. But thanks. Is Mako-chan around?"

"She stepped out for a few minutes," Ami replied. "She wanted to see if she could get some spices she's been running low on." She and Ryo resumed their seats on the couch. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

ChibiUsa glanced at Ryo, then said under her breath, "I suppose it makes more sense for you to be here." She pulled out the key, slipping the chain off over her head and placing it on the table. "This is what I wanted to talk about, Ami-chan."

Ryo looked at the key, then at Ami's expression of startled recognition. "I take it this is the key that lets people travel through time?"

"Not exactly," ChibiUsa corrected. "It lets you go to the Time Gate, but whether or not you can travel through time depends on what Pu decides... decided..."

Ami picked the key up. "I seem to remember there being some rather pronounced... problems if you tried to use this thing at the wrong time."

"That was my fault," ChibiUsa admitted. "At least a little. You really have to concentrate to get this thing to work, and it needs a certain amount of energy; I kept trying to use it at less than full power, or when I wasn't thinking clearly. And Pu stopped me once or twice, because it wasn't safe for me to leave. I'm a lot better at controlling it than I was, and I haven't used it once since I arrived. And Pu is... she won't stop me—us—this time."

"Why do you want to use it?" Ami asked. "If what Luna said is true, the Gate can't be opened without Pluto's staff; all you'd be able to do is kick around in that place."

"I know." ChibiUsa was silent for a moment. "That place is... Pu said it was the present, the exact instant in time where past and future come together. I didn't really understand a lot of it; she was talking about stuff like 'universal variance equality' and 'sympathetic temporal alignments,' and it didn't make a lot of sense. But there's a trick she showed me; you can use that place to look into any other point in space and time. It's not easy, but I puzzled out how to do it." She smiled. "We might be able to learn something. Who we're up against, where they are, why Pu is... like she is."

"And?" Ami asked. "What else?"

"N-nothing," ChibiUsa said.

"Usagi-chan," Ami said gently, "I've been watching your mother for years. I know what to look for when she's trying to hide something, and I'm seeing all the same signs from you right now. Why do you want to go to the Time Gate?"

"I don't belong here," ChibiUsa whispered. "It was okay as long as Pu was there to keep an eye on things, but now every time I turn around I'm afraid that I'll say or do something and then get home and find out that it's all changed or that I might just..." With a visible effort, she got control of herself. "Maybe going to the Time Gate will tell us something useful about what's been done to Setsuna and maybe it won't, maybe it'll tell us something about whoever's behind these green fungus monsters and maybe it won't, but it's the only place I can stay without risking..."

"Except," Ryo pointed out, "that for all we know, you're supposed to be here right now, and shutting yourself away outside of Time could be the very thing that you're _not_ supposed to do."

ChibiUsa blinked. "You," she said flatly, "are not helping. At all. I had everything all worked out, and now... damn it." She laughed helplessly. "I never even thought of that!"

"Nobody can think of everything," Ami said simply. "But let's call the others and think this over a bit more before we give up on it." Her eyes glittered. "I'm not sure how the rest of them will feel, but I certainly wouldn't mind finding out who's responsible for what happened to my grandparents' house."

***MILLENNIALS***

They met the next afternoon under the pretense of a massive weekend sleep-over at Michiru's house. Michiru and Haruka, for their parts, weren't entirely certain how they'd gotten talked into hosting this particular event, and spent much of the afternoon in a daze. The small mountain of sleeping bags, overnight kits, and junk food that gradually took shape in the living room likely didn't help, and Hotaru received—and ignored—a number of suspicious looks from her foster-family about the whole business.

The cats didn't have luggage, fortunately. Neither did Ryo, whose presence had been insisted on by Ami and ChibiUsa both; there had been a few knowing smiles—for Ami—and a few raised eyebrows—for ChibiUsa—about that, but the girls put Ryo to work anyway, helping move chairs and a couch or two as they tried to assemble a spot where all of them could sit and talk comfortably.

Michiru had watched the spectacle of her home being rearranged for a few minutes and then quickly departed, saying something about getting Makoto acquainted with the kitchen and the attached dining facilities.

"I'm not sure I'll ever get used to how big this place is," Makoto admitted, looking around the dining room, which appeared as though it could have held most of her apartment without complaint. Then she turned back to the kitchen with a very different expression. "But this, now... _this_ I like."

Michiru smiled. "One of the necessary evils of high society; if you throw a party, you have to have the facilities to cook enough to feed everybody. Even caterers can only do so much without a base of operations, and Mother did like to host parties." She ran a finger along the edge of a cutting board; it and everything else were clean and well-kept, but if Makoto was any judge of kitchens and their utensils, then none of the knife-marks on that board were recent. "Of course," Michiru added wistfully, "I haven't put most of this to use since my parents passed away, but I couldn't bring myself to get rid of any of it. Maybe someday..."

"Maybe someday," Makoto repeated softly. How many times had she used those words herself? "What were they like?"

"Father was an executive," Michiru replied, "a working man who made good; youngest vice-president in the history of the company at twenty-five, a seat on the board of directors before he was thirty. He was sort of plain, and he talked like he looked—straight to the point, no wasted words—but I used to think he was the most handsome man in the world when he smiled. Mother was an heiress, third-generation. She was a real lady, or at least as close as you can find these days; people used to say I looked like her. It wasn't quite an arranged marriage, but it came close." She smiled faintly. "They weren't in love in the strictest sense of the word, I suppose; certainly not like Usagi and Mamoru are. They treated the marriage as a business, and each other as partners, at least—friends or respected acquaintances, if not lovers—but I think they were happy. _I_ was happy. Yours?"

"High-school sweethearts," Makoto said. "Not the royal couple of the prom or anything like that, although I think Papa _was_ the captain of his soccer team. He and his brother owned a construction company together, and he coached at an athletics center in his spare time. Mama got a summer job at the flower shop when she was in high school because she and the owner's daughter were best friends, and she worked there full-time after she graduated. She loved flowers. It's a little odd," Makoto added, "but I don't really look like either of them. Mama had green eyes, but she and Papa both had very dark hair, and neither of them were as tall as I am now. I could look Mama in the eye by the time I was twelve, and I suppose I would have been as tall as Papa after another year or so if..." She broke off, brushing away tears and clearing her throat. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's natural; we hurt, we cry."

"_You_ don't."

That provoked a sad smile. "I did all my crying a long time ago."

Makoto looked at Michiru in silence, then asked quietly, "How... how did it happen?"

"The official cause was a boating accident. Unofficially... that was the day I found out that I was Neptune. But I didn't find out in time to save my parents."

"A youma?"

Michiru shook her head. "I don't know what it was, but it wasn't like anything I've seen since. Something dredged up from the bottom of the sea and the bottom of a nightmare in one, all squid-like tentacles and rubbery flesh beneath plates of armor and horn, and all of it dripping seawater and slime. It tore the boat apart like it was paper, and it dragged me—all of us—underwater. Just when I thought I was dead, there was a flash of blue light, something small and hard in my hand, and words in my head. It couldn't hold on to me after I'd transformed. I don't think it liked that." She smiled grimly. "I don't think it liked it when the gas engine in the yacht blew up, either."

"I did things that day I've never been able to do since," Michiru continued. "I was breathing water like air, moving through it like a torpedo, standing on the surface, shaping it into weapons of all kinds. I did... something... there was a whirlpool, a current pulling the creature out to sea and down, down... then it felt like something bent, or twisted, and it was gone. I could only find Mother, and she was hurt so badly I couldn't bear to leave her, even to try and find Father. She didn't recognize me until I changed back. For all that she was the one hurt, dying, I did all the crying, and she did all the comforting. We floated on what was left of the yacht for almost an hour before the harbor patrol found us. She didn't make it back to shore. It was more than a month before I stopped crying myself to sleep, and almost a year before I could go near a boat again." She looked at Makoto. "I guess you'd understand that, though, wouldn't you?"

There was a momentary silence. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?" Makoto said. It was more a statement than a question.

"Sometimes it's not so bad," Michiru replied, looking meaningfully through a succession of doorways, to the room where Haruka was either helping to move things or arguing to keep things where they were. "As long as you're not alone. But I guess you'd understand that, too, wouldn't you?"

There was another brief silence, broken by a muffled thud and a loud yelp from the distance. Michiru winced at the thud and then glanced towards the source of the disturbance, frowning. "I'd better go check on that before Haruka decides to throw something at someone. I'm not sure what I was thinking, leaving that bunch unsupervised in my own house, and besides,"—she looked around at the kitchen—"you probably know more about most of the things in here than I do."

"Probably," Makoto agreed. "Michiru?"

The older girl paused and looked back. "Yes?"

"Thank you for telling me; I know it can't have been easy."

"It helps to talk about these things, or so I've heard; thanks for listening." She put a hand on Makoto's shoulder. "If you ever want to talk... about your parents, I mean..."

"Maybe," Makoto said, smiling a little. "Someday." Michiru smiled back and gave the other girl's shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving for the front room.

Makoto stood there for a while, thinking about things with a detached clarity that surprised her. Her parents had been killed in a plane crash; Michiru's had been killed by a monster. She never got to say goodbye; Michiru got to watch as her mother died. And who, Makoto thought, was to say which of the two experiences was worse?

She realized something else, too. Knowing that someone else understood what it felt like to lose loved ones—that someone _really_ understood—somehow made her feel a little less lonely.

With that in mind, Makoto turned to the kitchen. Ami's explanation had—as usual—been a little hard to follow, but if they were going to go storming off through Time, best to do it with full stomachs. Dark memories were banished as she got to work.

***MILLENNIALS***

They gathered in the rearranged living room after dinner, the girls taking a moment to slip out of sight, clean up, and transform. Mercury staggered briefly as her uniform warped into existence, then quickly looked around to make sure no one had been on-hand to see. This was another reason she wanted to visit the Time Gate, to perhaps find a solution to whatever was wrong with her.

"Is everyone ready?" ChibiMoon asked, looking around. The others nodded, including Usagi and Ryo. As was becoming custom, there had been a few moments spent fighting over whether it was safe for any non-Senshi to make this trip, after quite a few minutes spent asking whether or not it was safe even for the _Senshi._ ChibiMoon had explained that the trick Pluto had showed her of observing time required a lot of precise mental control; Luna certainly had that, and every extra pair of eyes looking for answers would help. Then too, in a place from which it was naturally possible to see all points in Time as past AND future, Ryo's ability to see the future would probably have some enhanced effect. And with so many of them going, it was really much safer to bring Usagi along—just in case. Mars, although not happy about dragging Usagi into potential trouble yet again, was bringing the Book as well—just in case.

"Okay," ChibiMoon said. "Here we go."

"Do you think maybe we ought to nail down everything in the room before we try?" Venus asked. "You know, just in case?"

"I know what I'm doing, Venus," ChibiMoon replied a bit sharply. She was getting awfully sick of that phrase, and she held up the key before anybody else could say it again, or make any other smart remarks. "CRYSTAL KEY: ACTIVATE!"

The transparent stone at the head of the key flashed, shooting a hair-thin line of reddish energy from each of its many facets. The beams missed the gathered travelers entirely and seemed to impact on the interior surface of a large, invisible sphere around them, reflecting off in different directions. The lines crisscrossed empty space at incredible speed, filling the air until every point along that unseen, immaterial globe had been defined, and not once did the beams strike anyone. When the sphere was complete, the dancing lines of energy reflected one last time, rebounding back into the crystal, each one striking the exact same facet from which it had begun. The heart of the crystal flared with brilliant white light.

The world blinked out.

***MILLENNIALS***

Ryo's sneeze carried him clear off his feet. After a moment of sniffing and rubbing at his eyes, he looked around; had there been a floor, his jaw would have hit it.

The place was an empty void. Thick, grey-white mist reached in every direction for as far as the eye could see. More disturbing was the fact that everyone was standing upright at different angles, like one of those bizarre paintings with stairs leading along a ceiling and doors in the floor. Usagi appeared to be standing on her head, except that her hair and clothes all fell in the direction that was _up_ to Ryo, making him wonder if _he_ wasn't the one who'd gotten inverted.

"Everybody here?" ChibiMoon asked, looking about and counting heads as she tucked the no-longer-glowing key away again. "Okay, then. This'll probably go easier if we're at the Gate itself. Gives you a reference point in all this... well, whatever it is. This way."

"No," Pluto said suddenly. The others turned to look at her, pointing past Venus. "There." Sure enough, the dark, rectangular shadow of something very large was visible through the cloaking mists, the two narrow ends level with the angle of 'ground' that Pluto appeared to be standing on. Ryo swallowed; he'd only glanced in that direction briefly, but he was sure there hadn't been anything there. Pluto started towards it, and the others fell into line behind her.

They stopped a moment later as bootheels began clicking on a solid surface, where before there had only been mist. Shapes were suddenly all around them; not appearing gradually from the mists or flickering into existence, just _there._

Mars launched a Burning Mandala before anybody else had time to do more than stop and blink. The fiery rings hit one of the shapes and deflected away, their energy dissipating into the mists, but none of the large objects moved.

"Calm down," they heard Usagi say. "Everyone, relax."

"What _are_ they?" Saturn asked curiously.

"I don't know," ChibiMoon admitted. "I've never seen anything... there never IS anything here, except the Time Gate."

Six tall podiums to their right faced off against a wide gallery on the opposite side. Venus, at the back of the group, turned and jumped in surprise when she saw a seventh, larger podium looming up behind her. The most distant podium appeared to be made of some sort of grey stone, or perhaps metal; edges that might once have been sharp as razors were now dull and pitted with a reddish discoloration that might have been rust. The next box looked to have been formed from the swirling mists, drifting within a loosely-defined limit in a slow, random pattern; the stand beside it was black, but in different degrees, as if it had been made from shadows. The fourth podium was white marble, once pristine and finely-carved, but now stained and chipped. A tangle of plant life, half of it overgrown and half of it dead, formed the next seat, and the last member of the row was a pile of broken, dusty-looking rocks.

*Not rocks,* Ryo realized a moment later, recognizing a shape or two from biology class. He glanced quickly at Mercury, and knew from the look in her eyes that she'd also recognized the 'rocks' for what they were. They joined hands and held on very tight. Saturn, Ryo noticed, cast a quick glance at the sixth podium and then walked a little closer to Neptune and Uranus. It was hard to tell whether she was seeking protection or moving to be in place to provide it if the owner of the grim seat appeared.

The gallery was wooden, the same sort of high-quality work gone halfway to ruin as was to be found on the row of podiums. It had only three seats in it, shapeless masses of dust which might once have been cushions. The largest podium, the one behind Venus, appeared to be made of opaque glass or crystal; unlike the rest, it was in good repair, the sides smooth and clear and uncracked, but it too had no occupant. The empty seats were more disturbing than the idea of them being occupied; if there had been occupants, the Senshi could have dealt with them, but with all the seats empty, it felt almost as if one—or all—of those places might suddenly be filled the moment their eyes left it.

Pluto had ignored the appearance of the seats and walked right up to the Gate. She extended one hand to touch the massive, ornately carved door at about the level of her shoulder, then leaned forward so that her forehead touched the cool material in some form of communion.

"Pu?" ChibiMoon asked nervously.

"Can't you hear it?" Pluto said softly.

The others looked at each other, tilting their heads to catch a sound. "Hear what?" Venus finally demanded.

"Inside the Gate. The flow of Time. A symphony of seconds and centuries." They all stared at her. Ryo started to turn one ear towards the Gate, thinking that he almost could hear a faint swell of sound, then shook his head.

"I didn't like this place much the first time," Mars said shortly, "and I like it even less now. Let's do what we came to do and then get out of here."

ChibiMoon nodded. "Good idea. Everyone, listen carefully; you have to picture the place and time you want to see, get it fixed firmly in your head. Detail is important; the more precise the image is, the more likely you are to get a window." ChibiMoon looked down at a spot on the floor with an expression of intense concentration. Part of the solid-seeming greyness between the seats began to swirl away from an emptiness—no, an image. It was blurry at first, distorted and shifting, but then it sharpened into clarity, showing all of them standing in Michiru's living room, being surrounded by the light of the key. After a moment, the image was swallowed by the mist again.

"Neat trick," Uranus admitted. "Any particular reason why you wanted to see that again?"

"It's probably the furthest point along in time that you'll be able to see," ChibiMoon explained. "Pu said that looking into the past, however distant, is easier for most people than looking into the future, because the past is considered to be fixed, unchanging, while the future is fluid. Looking into a different location in the present is about midway. I could look into any instant between the point where we left Tokyo and the point where I left home, but I probably couldn't see beyond that instant. And I'm not going to try to look into the future," she finished. Noting the looks some of them gave her, she added, "I promised Mama I wouldn't tell you about your futures. I'm not going to show them to you, either." Then she smiled a very cunning smile. "That's what Ryo-kun is here for."

They all turned their attention to Ryo. He sighed. "I should start charging you people for these visions."

"What exactly are you doing?" Uranus asked as Ryo sat down on the 'floor' and then lay back, arms behind his head as if he were in a grassy field, watching the clouds. Mercury knelt to his right, computer out and visor on.

"We think his being here will enhance Ryo-kun's ability to see the future," Mercury explained. "But his visions have a history of bringing on headaches; the clearer or more urgent the vision, the more intense the pain gets, and there have been occasions when it was enough to make him black out."

"This way," Ryo added without breaking his gaze away from the endless mist above, "at least I won't risk hitting my head falling."

Mercury pulled at a corner of her computer, and a small piece of the frame appeared to come off between her fingers. She put the 'spot' on Ryo's forehead, and the center of it began to blink softly; so did the section of the computer it had been removed from. Jupiter glanced over her shoulder and saw that the screen had been filled with the sort of futuristic diagrams one expects to find in the Sick Bay of the starship Enterprise.

"If you pull a humming salt-shaker out of that thing," Venus started to say.

"It's a remote sensor," Mercury explained without looking up. "It gathers information specific to its program and the subject, rather than picking up everything in the vicinity like the computer or visor normally do. It lets me get a more precise reading, but it also dumps all of the computer's processing power onto the single task, so I don't bother with it very often."

"Not really a good idea in a battle situation," Neptune agreed.

"Pulse, respiration, blood pressure, neural activity..." Mercury paused. "Luna, there are some readings here I don't understand."

"Let me see." Luna hopped down from Usagi's arms and trotted over. She looked at the screen. "That information grouped together in the lower left?" Mercury nodded. "Don't worry about it; those are old Moon Kingdom terminology. They have to do with the subject's latent magical energies; the current level of power, the projected safe maximum, the projected maximum, special variant conditions, that sort of thing. See that reading coming off the frontal lobe? That's the physical traces in Ryo's brain that account for or were caused by his future sight."

Mercury nodded slowly. "And then this," she said, pointing at a notation coming from near Ryo's heart, "must be..."

"Exactly," Luna said. "It's a fairly simple system to read; I'll explain it all later, if you want." Luna didn't added that the reading labeled as 'SLE' -Subject Latent Energy—was unusually high for a human. Almost three times the average for a normal person in the old Moon Kingdom, if she recalled the figures correctly. Luna remembered what Queen Serenity had said about the old palace sensors registering the last trace of the youma energy within Ryo's body, but she hadn't expected the reading to be quite _that_ high. Then again, any one of those _particular_ youma had been enough to give four Senshi at once a rough time; it only made sense that the residual trace for one of them would be fairly steep.

"Then we're ready." She took Ryo's near hand. "You can begin any time, Ryo-kun."

Ryo didn't reply, instead letting his gaze fix on a point somewhere in or beyond the slowly swirling mist above him. He tried what ChibiUsa had described, picturing a specific place—the apartment where his family lived—and a specific time—breakfast tomorrow—and focused all his thoughts on putting as much detail into the image as possible. But no spiraling hole appeared in the mists. After a moment, he changed tactics, trying what he always did when attempting to force a vision; the image of place and time fell away, but the staring into space and the sharp focus of will remained. Funny, but that sound Pluto had been talking about seemed to be...

His eyes widened as something like a choir of a thousand pipe organs simultaneously hitting the lowest possible note went off in his head. Had such a sound actually _been_ a sound, it would have blown out his eardrums and likely turned his brain to paste; as it was, he thought the second part of that equation was coming along just wonderfully.

Even Pluto looked up in surprise as an image appeared above them all. The mists around it did not swirl or churn or flow away; they were ripped apart by the edge of the vision-window, which expanded outwards with a speed similar to the shock wave of an explosion. And, like an explosion, the image changed rapidly:

Saturn, trudging through what looked like a jungle, clearing a path for herself by lopping vines and branches off with the Silence Glaive as she walked and wearing an absolutely disgusted expression. A shadow of some sort fell across her from behind, and...

Shingo was walking down a street somewhere in Tokyo, with snow all around but not particularly thick. Three boys his own age appeared in front of him, saying something. Shingo's face darkened, and he said something back, then swung at the lead boy with his fist...

All the girls except Setsuna and ChibiUsa were standing in an airport lobby, and Mamoru was coming down an escalator. Usagi, much slimmer than she currently was, leapt and tackled her fiancee, literally knocking him off his feet. Kneeling over Mamoru with a triumphant smile, she looked up in shock as shadowy figures appeared...

A man in strange, dark robes inset with many symbols walked slowly through a darkened room, his back to them. He stopped suddenly and turned, revealing a hard face. Jagged lines of white raced through his black hair and beard like lightning bolts, and his utterly black eyes widened in shock as if he could actually see them watching him...

Rei kicked open a burning door and looked into a room that was engulfed in smoke and flame, shouting a word—a name?—that was lost in the roar of the fire. She had her transformation pen in hand and seemed about to raise it when she looked up and saw...

Ami was wandering amidst jewel-like pillars and shallow pools of pale water in a cavern filled with sparkling blue-white mist. The mist rippled as if a wind had stirred it, and Ami stopped, startled, as...

Jupiter pounded fiercely against a wall of glass which glowed dully and somehow resisted her blows. In a reflection on the glass and in Jupiter's eyes, they saw a light came on in the otherwise dark area beyond the glass, saw a figure step into the light, saw Jupiter's eyes go wide...

Uranus was fighting a creature that looked like a man made of stone, faceless and powerful, her sword flashing and slicing chips of rock away as the thing sought to pound her with huge fists. A massive beam of white-hot energy shot out of nowhere, ripping the stone creature from its feet and throwing it back twenty feet or more. Uranus turned towards the source of the beam as a brilliant white light illuminated her features...

Venus rolled to one side as a leathery, three-clawed foot crushed the rocky ground where she had been, then flipped to her feet and away as a reddish beam shot at her, leaving a black patch on the ground. She turned around to face whatever was attacking her, just in time to see a sawtooth-edged, bone-white blade plunging in at her stomach...

The vision-window shattered abruptly, and the fragments were immediately swallowed up by the mist. The Senshi heard Ryo groan softly; Mercury had discarded the computer and put her free hand to his forehead. Her other hand remained tightly locked with his.

"Remind me not to try that again, will you, Ami-chan?"

Mercury smiled. "How's your head feel?"

"About the same as always." Ryo started to sit up, then fell back as a wave of dizziness hit him. "Forget I said that."

Saturn, a little shaken by the images, knelt down to Ryo's left and extended a hand glowing with pale purple light to his forehead. The dull throbbing in Ryo's head went away immediately as Saturn's gloved fingers brushed against his skin, and he felt quite good all over, every dull ache or mild soreness gone.

"Is it always that bad?" she asked softly as Ryo got to his feet.

"The headaches? No."

"I wasn't asking about the headaches."

"I know."

"So," Venus was saying, "I've got five deer that say Mister Black Eyes and Big Robes is a villain. Any takers?"

"'Bucks,'" Artemis corrected patiently, "not 'deer.' Money, not animals."

"Dough, a deer, what's the difference?" Venus paused. There was a song in that, somewhere, she was sure of it. She shook her head. "So, if Ryo-kun's had his turn, who's up"—a window was already swirling open, and her last word trailed off, losing its interrogative note—"next."

They turned and saw Pluto, her eyes firmly fixed on the growing image and burning with a fierce inner light. Usagi remembered her friend's near-desperate eagerness on the Moon, when she'd looked at the old device connected to the computer and asked if Serenity could have done anything to help her. The look in Pluto's eyes now was still eager, but not in the same way. It was a little vicious, but Usagi couldn't figure out why.

The image that took shape was the instant on New Year's Eve in which the first fungus-creature had fired its devastating blast at the Mizuno house. Then the scene began to play itself backwards: the surging beam of greenish energy the Inner Senshi and the cats remembered was sucked back into the toaster; the light on the creature's head winked out; it turned back to the four Senshi in the snowbank, and energies formed between them, half zipping into the creature, the other half flying back towards the Senshi and disappearing.

"You didn't say we could do that," Saturn said to ChibiMoon.

"I didn't think we _could._"

Pluto continued to push back through the event, rewinding it to the point where she had first seen the creature burst from the house across the street. And then she went further than that, somehow zooming the image in to follow the entity's movements inside the house. It raced backwards through the living room, righting and reassembling overturned or shattered furniture; in the kitchen, it spat out all the devices in its body to their original places and dwindled into a much smaller form, a greenish orb similar to the one that had been left behind by the monster at the Cafe. A jagged hole of black energy appeared in the air above the ball, which shot up into it, the gateway closing and leaving the house as it had been.

And still Pluto followed the thing. After a moment of blurry distortion, the image cleared and showed a huge chamber of unfamiliar design. The walls were high and hidden in shadow, and large devices loomed all about. The only clear details were of a spherical object at the center of the scene, sort of a room- within-the-room with walls of glass and complex carvings on the floor. At its heart was the ball of green, discharging—absorbing, really, since this was all being shown to them in reverse—sparks of energy. The energy vanished, and the glow within the glass-walled area faded.

Then a figure drifted through the only opening in that transparent wall. It was the black-eyed man in robes, and the image froze as soon as his face became clear.

"I told you," Venus said.

"Where is he?" Mercury demanded sharply. Everyone except Pluto looked at her, slightly startled, and Usagi suddenly figured out what that eagerness in Pluto's eyes was; Mercury had the same look. Usagi decided she wouldn't want to be in the robed man's shoes when her two friends caught up with him.

The image was changing again, the point of view pulling away from the robed man, passing rapidly through a succession of many walls. When the scene emerged into corridors or rooms, there was very little light, and after a certain point, no light at all.

"It's underground," Luna said after a moment. "Or underwater. Somewhere very deep in either case. Go back—or forward—would you, Pluto?" The image remained dark a moment longer, then brightened—a little—as it moved back into an area of light. Eventually, the black-eyed man reappeared, unmoving. Luna frowned. "That's what I thought. Whoever that man is, those markings on his clothes were in common use by practitioners of magic back in the Silver Millennium or earlier periods of history."

"Looks like an archmage," Artemis noted. "Or at least, he thinks he is. Pluto, can you zoom in on the area of his robes just over his heart? If he's true to the old fashion, there should be a symbol there to show his allegiance." Pluto obliged, spinning the image and moving it closer.

A series of seven silver circles was plainly visible on the front of the wizard's dark mantle, broken circles which were connected to each other by a seemingly random pattern of short lines. The cats stared at it, eyes wide, ears and tails drooping.

"Oh no." Luna buried her face in her paws. "Tell me I didn't see that."

"Seven broken and interjoined rings... deep underground or underwater... magical rites and devices which were outlawed two thousand years ago..." Artemis shook his head. "It has to be, Luna. Too much of it fits."

"Would one of you please start making sense?" Mars demanded.

"Where is he?" Mercury repeated.

"He's in Atlantis," Luna said.

"And we are in big trouble," Artemis added.

-Indeed you are-

The voice was incredibly cold, a hissing whisper heard more in the head than in the ears. To Ryo, it was the mind-voice of the youma Zoicite had turned him into; to ChibiMoon, it was the voice of the Wise Man; Saturn heard it as Mistress Nine. It was a different voice to each of them, but always of the same kind. Dark. Frightening. Seductive.

Evil.

As the podiums had suddenly appeared without actually appearing, now they were restored from their assorted states of decay, and—for the most part—occupied. A faceless being in stark grey robes sat in the first box, radiating an aura of authority and control; next to it was a thing which blurred from form to formlessness to what looked mostly like a dog in robes, with corn growing out of its ears. Third was a black shadow, a hole in reality, within which floated two blood-red eyes; the fourth box remained empty, while the fifth held a being half-plant, half-animal, somewhat human, and seemingly female. Three women sat in the gallery; the one in the middle looked almost exactly like Pluto—but somehow not quite—another looked much younger, and the third, much older. A very plain, ordinary-looking man sat in the tallest podium, watching them with grey eyes. The box to his right, the last of the row of six, also held a figure, but after one glance at it, everyone averted their eyes. Almost everyone.

"You," Saturn whispered, staring at the black shroud, the bony hands, the apparently empty hood. The blood had completely drained from her face, and her eyes were shining with violet energy.

"You," Uranus hissed, looking up at the very ordinary, very average man, with his hair that was not grey due to age.

"You," Usagi said flatly, her eyes on the incessantly shifting thing in the second box. It looked at her, then suddenly seemed to be wearing her hairstyle.

"You," Pluto said in shock, unable to pull her gaze from the three images of herself.

-The event has been as it was intended—The second figure was the source of the dark voice.—The conditions have been met; I exercise my right-

"The conditions have been met," the grey man agreed. He looked at the three women who were not quite Pluto and nodded, and they in turn nodded back, turning to look at the Senshi.

*Not at us,* Usagi realized after a moment. *Past us. But there's nothing there except... oh no.*

There was a tremendous sound as the Time Gate swung open, revealing the swirling flow of Time itself. In the same instant that the great doors parted, a tremendous roaring wind pulled at the Senshi and their three friends, dragging them towards the Gate. Pluto, near the back, was sucked in almost immediately; Uranus and Neptune followed a moment later, and Artemis flew in on their heels, with Venus right on _his_ heels as she tried desperately to catch him. Lacking the strength of the Senshi, Ryo was next, and Mercury jumped in after him.

Saturn had driven the Silence Glaive into the shifting substance of the mists as an anchor, and now looked back helplessly as ChibiMoon also vanished into the Gate. Just ahead of her, Mars and Jupiter had dragged Usagi to the ground; the low position reduced the pull of the wind, and their combined weight seemed to be enough to hold them in place. Luna was hanging on by her claws, though, and when the shoulder of Usagi's shirt tore, she was pulled away. Usagi tried to reach for her, but the shift made Mars lose her hold on the Book, which also flew back, and when _she_ reached for the Book, she leaned up too far, and was thrown after it.

Jupiter tried to keep Usagi pinned down, hunching down over the smaller girl so as to put her full weight as well as her strength into the effort. But for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and by pushing Usagi down, Jupiter pushed herself up, just a little. It was a little too far, and the inexorable force of the Gate caught her, dragged her slowly upright and then violently backwards. She collided with Saturn, and for a moment, it looked as if they both might hold steady. Then the Silence Glaive, rocked loose by the impact, emerged from the mists beneath, and both Senshi were blown into the Gate.

That left Usagi, hanging on to a surface that wasn't really there by dint of her fingernails and sheer furious determination. She actually managed to drag herself forward a bare fraction of an inch. Then she paused. Several inches. A slip backwards. Another pause. Another fraction.

She glared up at the seated figures, and her eyes said that if she ever got her hands on any of them, what Mercury and Pluto were planning for the man with black eyes was going to seem pleasant by comparison.

Then even Usagi was overpowered, sucked into the swirling vortex of color and sound beyond the Time Gate. As the currents within what her mind could only describe as a corridor carried her away, Usagi looked back at the rapidly fading mass of the Gate, which was slowly swinging shut. She could just make out a figure, a shape that wasn't a shape but seemed to be wearing her hairstyle.

"dEBT rePAiD," she heard a bizarre voice say. A limb that could only be loosely described as an arm moved, throwing something in after her—after all of them—just as the Time Gate crashed shut, something which flashed and flickered as it spun end over end towards her.

Pluto's staff.

***MILLENNIALS***

Mars woke up with a start, for a brief second not knowing where she was, hoping against hope to look around and find that it had all been a dream.

No such luck. She was sitting in a rocky field somewhere, all grey dust and stark stones. The sky overhead was thick with clouds, very low and very dark, sooty black clouds which did not look like they promised rain. Spaces in between the clouds were not the familiar blue of a daytime sky or the equally familiar star-specked black of night, but a dull grey hue very similar to the dust and stones all around her.

She could still breathe, and although the chill air held a decidedly musty odor, it did not appear to be threatening to crush her from pressure. Nor was the gravity unusual; she felt no lighter or heavier than she normally did.

*That means I may still be on Earth. But where? And _when?_*

"That's what we were wondering," a familiar voice said from behind her. Mars turned, startled, and let out a relieved sigh when she saw Uranus and Neptune, both a little dusty but both very definitely here.

"I think you dropped this," Neptune added politely, handing over the Book, which was no dirtier than it had been, and still firmly sealed shut.

"Thank you," Mars said, taking the Book and looking around. "Any ideas about this place?"

"None. We've only been here about two minutes, and nothing looks familiar." Neptune raised her wrist and pressed a button on her communicator. It beeped twice, and was answered by identical beeps from Mars' and Uranus' own communicators. After a moment, Neptune sighed. "And unless Ami's boyfriend or the cats are out there, it appears we're the only ones who ended up here."

"Wherever _here_ is," Uranus said. "And whenever."

Mars hugged the Book close as she looked out at the blasted landscape. *Usagi, where are you?*

***MILLENNIALS***

Jupiter came to with a vicious pounding in her head. She was laying on a bed of sweet-smelling grass and perhaps a few small flowers, looking up at a brilliant blue sky through which a flock of birds flapped in shifting formation.

"Good morning."

"Hello, Mercury," Jupiter said, without rising. The grass was very soft, for one thing, and she didn't really feel like looking around, for another. "Do you have any idea where we are or what time it is?"

"Actually, yes. I did a scan of the area with my computer, and it matches the geography of Tokyo to within a reasonable margin of error. There's no city, though, just a lot of fields and trees. And judging by the angle of the sun, my computer says it's 8:24am, local time. Probably early summer."

"And the year?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, but since there isn't a city—or a settlement of any kind within a hundred kilometers—it's probably somewhere in the past." There was a pause, after which Mercury added, in a soft, sad voice, "We're the only ones here."

"Not exactly," a strange, melodious voice said. Jupiter was on her feet in an instant, turning with Mercury to face the source of that unfamiliar voice, raising her arms into a ready stance in case it proved hostile.

A girl not much older than themselves stood at the edge of a nearby group of trees. She was a little shorter than Jupiter, very slender, and wore a loose-fitting, sleeveless, low-necked dress of some pale green material, belted at the waist with a silver thread, but her feet were bare. Hair of a brilliant emerald green hue was worn in a short-cut style that framed her face with two inward-curving tails, and her pale skin held a faintly greenish cast. Wide, deeply brown eyes regarded them both curiously.

"Who are you?" the girl asked. Her ears, Jupiter noticed as the stranger turned her head slightly, came to very definite points. She also had a third tail in her hair, at the back, much longer and straighter than the two to the sides.

"Who are you?" Jupiter countered.

"I am Sasanna Teol Hydarallanallen," the girl—or whatever she was— replied, seemingly unbothered by the blunt counter-question. "Who are you?"

Mercury's mother had raised her to be polite, so she responded. "My name is Mercury; this is Jupiter."

The girl—Sasanna Teohwhatever she called herself—looked at them, lips moving as she silently repeated their names. Her expression seemed vaguely puzzled. "Those are not your real names," she said. "At least, they are not your only names."

"No," Mercury admitted, "they're not our only names. But they'll do."

Sasanna looked at her, then at Jupiter. "Your name is Kino Makoto. Mako-chan?" She pronounced it 'Keenoh Mahkohdoh,' but Jupiter blinked anyway. And then she blinked again when the girl added, her face even more puzzled, "Amma? Amalthea?" She pronounced those 'Ah-mah' and 'Ahmahltheehah.' "How many names do you have?"

"H-how did you know that?" Jupiter asked in a shaken voice.

Sasanna seemed startled. "The trees told me, of course. I can hear them, and they can hear you, a little. Do you not hear them?"

"The trees told..." Jupiter repeated slowly.

"What _are_ you?" Mercury demanded.

The girl paused, frowning as she thought. "My kind," she said at length, "do not have a name for ourselves. We are what we are, no more, no less. But there was..." She looked back at the trees, and Jupiter thought she heard a sighing rustle. Goosebumps ran up her arms.

*Just the wind. Just wind in the leaves. Plants can't talk. I used to imagine my plants could answer when I talked to them, but they couldn't, they can't, they don't... do they?*

"Ah," Sasanna said, nodding as she turned back to them, "yes. Whilowhorlowillowander reminds me of the man who spoke with Rheanna Diema Dwaenonymmossifer many seasons ago. His word for our kind was 'dryads.' Have you given us another name since then?"

***MILLENNIALS***

"Ohhhhhh," ChibiMoon groaned, "my head."

"Your head and mine both," Venus replied. "Owowowowow... wow!"

ChibiMoon's head shot up to look at whatever had made Venus give that wondrous and suddenly pain-free exclamation, just in case it was a 'wow' inspired by something like a huge explosion or their being lost in a place where all the usual laws of reality had been stood on their ear.

After a moment to look around, she sincerely wished it had been either of those two. What she was seeing was much, much worse. Terrible. Disastrous on a scale that absolutely refused to register in her mind.

They were standing in a garden of some kind, filled with many lovely plants and pieces of sculpture that fell into varying categories of size, style, and physical composition. None of that was what bothered ChibiMoon; it was the huge, gleaming silver-white shape taking up much of the skyline like a mountain which scared her.

"I'm home," she announced weakly. Venus looked over sharply, a little concerned by the sound of ChibiMoon's voice as she added, "Mother is going to kill me."

***MILLENNIALS***

Akhmed looked around at the campsite and nodded in satisfaction. Finding this little oasis, so close to home, had been a welcome surprise indeed. Instead of riding the rest of the night and arriving tired and dry and dusty at midday, he and his horse could take their ease this evening and well into tomorrow, then ride out in the early evening and be back well before midnight. He could afford to waste the day; good old Mahdib had made excellent time for him.

The horse, wrapped in a spare blanket for warmth in the night air, was taking a well-deserved drink from the cool water of the pool just then, and shortly turned his attention to some low-growing scrub around its edges. Not exactly the sweet hay and sweeter apples the family typically served him, Akhmed thought with a smile, but the reedy little grasses were apparently satisfactory to sate the loyal horse's hunger this evening.

Or maybe not so satisfactory. Mahdib suddenly looked up from his dinner and whickered softly, a note which made Akhmed reach for his dagger as his eyes scanned the area. The old horse had good ears and good instincts, and if he had heard... ah, there, just coming over the lip of the high, dusty hill that hid this place. A bandit? A fellow traveler?

A girl, on foot. Akhmed stared, stunned. She was young, probably no older than his little sister Kaiya, and wearing strange clothes. The light of the full moon made every detail very clear, if slightly lacking in color. Her hair was done up in a style as strange as her clothes, and though he couldn't be sure of its color, he knew it was far, far more pale than that of any woman he had ever seen or heard of. Her face was also pale and very pretty, though she looked as if she'd been crying; as she got closer, Akhmed could see that her eyes were a brilliant blue, slightly rimmed with the red residue of tears, but there was nothing of weakness in them that he could see.

She was also very pregnant, and that decided Akhmed.

"You, girl! Are you lost? Hurt? Come down to the camp; I will not harm you, I swear." The girl hesitated, looking at him, then called down to him, words in a language Akhmed had never heard before. He shook his head. "I can't understand you. Please, come down. The desert is not safe at night." He gestured with his hands, and she walked closer, slowly.

It was then that Akhmed saw the cats. One blue-black, the other white, and both with strange crescent marks on their foreheads, they moved along to either side of the strange girl. The way they looked at him and at the area all around reminded him of old soldiers and caravan guards he had met from time to time, sizing up unfamiliar ground for enemies and dangerous or defensible positions.

The girl and her cats stopped a short distance away, and she bowed slightly, smiling nervously; Akhmed returned the greeting and the smile. She said something, but Akhmed again shook his head. "I can't understand you. And you probably can't understand me, can you?" After he stopped speaking, the girl frowned, made a sort of cupping gesture at her ear, and shook her head. Akhmed sighed. "I thought not. Will you come sit by the fire?" He motioned towards the fire, and the girl nodded, rubbing her arms in the chilly night air.

She sat down on a low stone next to the fire, and Akhmed fetched the other blanket from inside his tent, offering it to her. After a moment, she accepted it and wrapped it around her shoulders, saying something and smiling. She picked up the black cat and held it close; the white cat sat a little closer to the fire.

"My name is Akhmed," he said after a moment. He repeated his name, tapping himself on the chest.

"Usagi," the girl said, pointing to herself. Then she pointed at the cats, in turn, and named them "Luna," and "Artemis." Then they sat there for a time, a thousand things to say, but no way to say them. Akhmed offered the girl some food and water, which she accepted, but he wasn't exactly sure what to do next.

"Ho, the camp!" Akhmed looked up at the hill again, startled. Three men had appeared there, and moonlight flashed on blades at their hips. Without thinking, Akhmed put himself between the girl and the three newcomers; when they got closer, he cursed silently. He knew the man in front, but not by choice.

"Hello, Akhmed," the tall, scar-faced leader said pleasantly. "Imnho sent us to find you."

"Hello, Tukkad," Akhmed replied. "I'm surprised to hear Imnho is so concerned for my well-being."

"Oh, he could care less about you," Tukkad admitted, "but those documents you're carrying for your father? Those, Imnho cares about a great deal. He's paying us well to see that they reach him intact. You, he wasn't so specific about, but if you'll just hand over those letters—and anything valuable you might be carrying—I could see my way to..."

"Akhmed?"

"What's this?" Tukkad asked, barking out a harsh laugh. "Akhmed, you sneaky devil! What have you been up... to." Tukkad's eyes widened as Usagi moved out from behind Akhmed.

"Hair like gold," one of his companions muttered.

"Where," Tukkad asked in awe, "did you find a slave girl like that? What did she _cost?_" He shook his head, realizing he was asking questions of a man he'd been hired to rob, if not outright kill. "No matter. I don't think you deserve anything that pretty, Akhmed. Hand her over with the documents, and you can go."

"Not a chance."

Tukkad shrugged. "Suit yourself." He and his companions drew their weapons, took a step forward... and hesitated as a low, thunderous growl filled the night air. Akhmed saw that the three thugs were staring at something behind him, something that was probably the source of that growling noise. It was a noise Akhmed remembered hearing once or twice, and the memory of what made a sound like that made him start to sweat. Behind him, Mahdib snorted fearfully.

"A demon!" the second of Tukkad's men shrieked, turning to run. He got about five steps before the other man caught up and passed him, running flat-out. They both vanished over the hill, long cloaks flapping behind them, leaving Tukkad alone, pale, and shaking violently.

A huge blue-black panther walked into Akhmed's field of vision, moving slowly around Usagi and coming to a halt in front of Tukkad. The beast's shoulder cleared the level of Akhmed's waist, and it was easily as long as he was tall. It was certainly far more powerful, probably stronger than he and Tukkad put together, and it was undeniably better armed. *A beast that size must have claws the size of daggers,* Akhmed thought uneasily. *And its teeth... gods, its teeth!*

Tukkad apparently reached the same conclusions, because his face went whiter than the moon overhead, and his shaking increased to the point where he could hardly stand. The huge feline just stood there, looking at him; it growled sharply once, and Tukkad turned and ran for his life, screaming at the top of his lungs.

The panther watched him run, then turned back to face the humans, and Akhmed saw immediately that it bore a crescent on its forehead. He realized that Usagi was holding on to his arm, but not in a way that suggested she was afraid and seeking comfort; it was more like she was trying to comfort him.

The beast's eyes blinked, and then its entire form blinked as well. Instead of a cat, another young woman stood before Akhmed, a little taller and a little older than Usagi, with very long and extremely dark hair, the same shade as the fur of the panther had been. She was as fair-skinned as Usagi, though they otherwise looked nothing alike, and wore a white dress of a style that was as different from Usagi's clothing as from what Akhmed was familiar with. Her eyes were the eyes of the panther—and, Akhmed realized dully, of the little black cat as well.

"We need to talk." Akhmed heard a faint thump behind him following the woman's words, and turned; so did Usagi, looking a little confused until she spotted the source of the sound. Then she broke into giggles.

The white cat had passed out.

***MILLENNIALS***

It wasn't possible to have a headache anywhere other than in your head, but having said that, the pain that had taken up residence in the rest of Ryo's body felt agonizingly similar to the intracranial overpressure he felt after a particularly intense vision.

The pain, he thought, had only a little to do with whatever had happened at the Time Gate. Wherever and whenever he had landed, it felt... odd. The air was warm, humid, and somehow heavy, as if the atmosphere were a little thicker here. He could see a lot of green, and there was a pervasive smell he didn't recognize. There were also weird sounds off in the distance, sounds he didn't recognize any better than the smell, and liked even less.

Getting up and looking around, he saw plants of all kinds, growing thicker and taller than anything he had ever seen.

*Saturn might be around here somewhere,* he thought immediately, recalling the vision of her wandering around through a jungle. Some of the plants from that vision looked a lot like the plants that were growing around here. He would rather have been here with Ami-chan, but he supposed he could do worse than be stuck to tag along behind the second most powerful Senshi in existence. All he had to do now was...

"Welcome back." Turning, Ryo saw Pluto sitting on the rim of a jagged tree stump about twice as thick across as she was tall. A tall, oddly-shaped staff was leaning against her left shoulder, both her hands wrapped around it.

"That must have been some tree," Ryo said.

Pluto smiled. "Yes, it was. How do you feel?"

"Sore. Tired. Hot. A little stifled. You?"

"About the same."

Ryo looked around, but they seemed to be alone. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that; since that bizarre vision back in the hospital, being around Pluto always made him just a little nervous. "Any idea where or when we ended up?"

"The where, I'm not sure of, except that I'm sure we're still on Earth." Pluto paused, getting to her feet with a little help from the staff. "As for when..."—she looked out at the thickly growing trees—"don't ask me how or why, but I think this is ninety million BC. Give or take a century or two, either way."

Ryo stared at her.

***MILLENNIALS***

Saturn was, in a word, pissed.

Being lost in space and time, ripped away from one's friends and family, and left to wander blindly through a stinking, sweltering jungle will do that to most people, even those whose natures are not typically angry ones. Of course, most people are not Saturn.

Saturn's power was a dark and sometimes terrible one, and she kept it firmly locked away in a mental cage, behind barriers of willpower in the furthest corner of her mind, only letting it out for brief periods, and always under the tightest reins she could devise. When she got angry, those barriers buckled, and the power rattled around in its cage, almost as if it was eager to get out and do some damage—which it might very well be. Usually, whenever this happened, Saturn clamped down on her power and her temper, hard.

Right now, though, she let the power rage and rattle and surge to its satisfaction. Her mood was dark, and for once, it suited her to have that purple-black energy roiling and gnashing in her brain, blood, and bones.

She slashed through vines, leaves, low-hanging branches, and even the occasional tree or stone as she walked along, not really knowing where she was going and well beyond caring in any event. The Silence Glaive lived up to its name, moving through the air without even a whisper of sound, and its typically gleaming blade was unusually dull, as if the weapon itself could sense its mistress' dark mood and was doing everything it could to be as inoffensive as possible.

Saturn was deep enough in her personal darkness that she failed to notice the steady series of thudding footsteps and crunching foliage coming up from behind her. But she did notice when a huge shadow suddenly appeared, swallowing her own shadow. She turned around.

It was big and scaly, with a hide that ranged from olive green to dull brown depending on where one looked. Two small eyes looked down at her from either side of a head that was a good six meters in the air, and the mouth of that head, when it opened, was filled with a forest of gleaming teeth—and a breath that stank of rotten meat. The beast lowered its head to snap up the little morsel before it...

...and drew back with a snort as something flashed up into view.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It."

As a group, dinosaurs have long been famous for having some of the smallest brain-to-body mass ratios ever to evolve in the animal kingdom. It is important to remember, however, that just because they were unintelligent is not immediate grounds to dismiss them as stupid. A species—or a group of species—does not get to rule the world for several hundred million years by being stupid; nature has spent far too much time cultivating the fine quality of instinct to permit it. It is also important to remember that animals in the modern world are well-known for their ability to perceive things that humans either can't or won't acknowledge as being there.

This particular carnosaur—a cousin of the infamous tyrannosaurs—was hungry, and its powerfully keen snout told it there was meat right in front of it. At the same time, however, that nose was picking up other scents: a cold, flat odor it had never encountered before; another smell which it associated with the last time it had run into a fellow predator; and a scent that said 'danger' to the beast's small brain as clearly as would the smell of smoke or the rumble of thunder.

After a moment, the huge beast turned away and lumbered off in search of something else to snack on. Once it was out of sight, Saturn went back to chopping a path through the trees.

She didn't notice the small eyes watching her from the shadows of the foliage all around.

***Sailor Says***

_(The room is empty. Shingo pokes his head in from the left and looks around, then flashes a V-sign at the screen and grins.) _

**Shingo**: All right, looks like it's my turn. That odango-atama does this all the time, so it can't be _that_ hard... um...

**Voice Off-Screen**: Psst! _(Hands a sheet of paper to Shingo and motions for him to read it.) _

**Shingo**: Hey, thanks! Okay, let's see... Today's moral is that the future is shaped by events in the past, and... _(Shingo frowns and looks more closely at the sheet of paper)_ Wait a minute, that's the same moral they used in Episode Eight!

**Off-Screen**: Huh? Let me see that. _(Shingo hands the paper back, and there is a brief pause.)_ Damn. Sorry kid; I guess you're on your own.

**Shingo**: Great. _(Thinks hard.)_ Well, except for the fact that they really ought to make sure ahead of time that there's going to be somebody on hand to do these things, I haven't got any ideas.

**Off-Screen**: Plan ahead. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Yeah, I think that'll do.

**Shingo** _(frowning)_: Isn't that what they said in Episode Nine?

**Off-Screen**: Uh, no. _That_ moral was about how you can't hope to plan for everything; _this_ moral is about how you shouldn't leave things to chance if you can help it.

**Shingo** _(still frowning)_: I think I want to talk to the author.

**Off-Screen**: He's busy. _(Cut to a scene of the Judge, locked in a tiny room with a computer, typing away with a glazed expression.) _

**Shingo**: Oh. _(Looks around as the screen gets dim.)_ Are there any video games in here?

**Off-Screen**: No.

14/07/00 (Revised as of 15/08/02)

(Best zombie voice) Must... write... stories! (Shakes self out of typing trance.)

Sorry for the delay; I try for a bi-weekly 'publication,' but ran into some trouble getting this one off the ground. Ah well.

I went traipsing off into the nether reaches of time mainly because it occured to me that I hadn't done much with ChibiUsa yet, and she deserved a chance to show that—in this story, anyway—her 'spore' personality is more or less a thing of the past. Although, as this episode has shown, the 'past' can be a subjective thing...

I also realized that her possession of that little key left a MAJOR potential plot gap. And we couldn't have one of those, now, could we? Of course, NOW I have to figure out how to... well, that's my problem, isn't it?

Next time (and in several times at once!):  
-the Senshi struggle not to do anything that might unravel the fabric of history as they know—or don't know—it, and;  
-Venus is introduced to Crystal Tokyo, sort of.


End file.
